The Gates of Paradise

by Melissa de la Cruz

  This was not the joyful reunion Schuyler had been dreaming about. There was something wrong with Jack. He was not himself. What had happened to her love?

  “Jack—what’s going on?” she breathed, turning to him even as he held her like a prisoner.

  His gaze was cool and distant. There was no spark in his eyes, no warmth there. He was Jack, but somehow not her Jack. Schuyler began to feel very afraid for the two of them.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why are we here? What’s going on? Jack—what’s happened to you?”

  He did not answer, and Schuyler realized what she had been loath to admit to herself. That the presence she’d felt—those eyes on her—it had been him all along. She had sensed it, and had tried to reach out to him, but there had been no response, and so she’d tried to forget about it, had tried to convince herself that she felt nothing. That she was seeing phantoms; that she was kidding herself.

  But of course she knew. She knew he was in London; she knew he had been watching her. She had been waiting for him to come to her, to show himself, and now he had. Had he seen everything that had happened to her? Was he there when she met her grandmother? When she visited her father’s grave?

  She looked deep into his eyes, and found him staring back at her blankly. It was as if the Jack she knew had been completely erased. She felt her stomach clench, and tears come to her eyes. Even if she could not put her arms around him, since he held them at her sides, they were so close that she could turn her face and press her cheek against his cold one.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked, even though she suspected she already knew. “You’re working for Lucifer again, aren’t you?”

  He did not deny it.

  “But why? Why now? What happened to Mimi? Did you kill her?” Schuyler sucked in her breath. Was that what happened? Was that why he was so changed? Because he had killed her?

  “Azrael lives.”

  “As do you. So, how?” She struggled against his hold and pressed her body against his. She had hoped that his body would remember hers at least—that somehow, in some way, he would acknowledge their deep bond. Whenever they were together, there was always so much heat between them, but still, Jack remained ice-cold and indifferent. Was there any way to bring him back to her? To make him remember? “I don’t care,” she said. “You don’t have to explain anything. I just want you back, Jack. Please, don’t do this. I know this isn’t you.”

  “You don’t know anything about me, Schuyler, you never have. You’ve never understood what it means to be one of the Fallen.”

  “How can you say that? After all we’ve been through?” She thought of everything they had done together—remembered the first time they had spoken, outside of that nightclub in New York—all those secret nights in the Perry Street apartment—their bonding in Florence—and the last night in Cairo.…He would always be hers, and she his. He was her great love, and seeing him, even like this, brought a joy to her senses, regardless of her fear and confusion.

  Jack was alive.

  And yet Jack was dead.

  Where was the boy she had pledged her life and love to? Where was the boy who’d held her so close she couldn’t breathe sometimes? Where was the boy with the serious smile and the poetry and the books? The boy who had taken her to Vienna on a whim? The boy who knew her even better than he knew himself? Who knew everything about her, every inch of her body, every flutter of her heart. Jack was hers—he owned her, she loved him deeply, and even like this, she loved him still. Where was Jack? What had he done to himself?

  “Jack, it’s me,” she said softly. “Let me help you.”

  “You don’t know anything,” he said again. “And I saw you with him.”

  “What? With who?”

  “With him,” he spat, and she realized he was talking about Oliver.

  Schuyler wanted to laugh, it was so absurd. “You know there’s nothing between me and Oliver. Not anymore. Not since I left New York to be with you. Remember? He’s just my friend.” She loved Oliver, but she had never loved him the way she loved Jack. Jack knew that. He’d known it from the beginning. It had almost broken her best friend—and herself to admit it—but it was true. There had always ever been one boy in her heart. Only Jack Force.

  “I know what he wants…and what you want. What you’ve always wanted.”

  He’d seen her kiss Oliver, she realized. His grip around her tightened, but there was no warmth in it, only anger, only violence. He could break her in half, she realized; snap her like a twig; kill her without a second thought.

  “That wasn’t what it looked like; you of all people should know that,” she said. “I was kissing him good-bye.”

  “Like you did me?” he asked with a smirk in his voice, and now his hold on her became so painful, it was all she could do not to cry out.

  “How can you say that to me?” she asked. How could he sully the memory of their last night? It was all she had of him. She knew he wasn’t himself, but it still hurt.

  “Because there’s nothing you can say that I want to hear,” he said with a cruel smile. “Our bond is broken. It was never forged. There is nothing between us now, and there never has been.”

  “You don’t believe that, I know you don’t. Not truly. Why are you doing this?” she whispered.

  “Because this is who I am,” Jack said.

  Schuyler understood what he was telling her now—that evil was always part of his nature. He was a Dark Angel. He had been fighting for the Light, but he had given up at last. Whatever had happened between him and Mimi, it had changed him, just as Schuyler had feared.

  She was going to die. She understood why he had come for her. She was going to die at his hands. This was how it was going to end. Lawrence had warned her; Mimi had warned her. Yet she and Jack had ignored all the signs, all the warnings. They had fought to be together, and this was how it would end. Their love had been futile, damaged, cursed from the beginning.

  Jack continued to hold her so close, and Schuyler whispered in his ear. “I know you. I know this isn’t you. And even if it is, I still love you. As much as I always have. You will always be mine. Take me—I am yours. Take whatever you need from me, I will give it gladly. I will always love you, I promised you that when you left, and it’s true now.” She looked at him, and no matter what happened, she knew that it was true. She would always love Jack. Even like this. Even if he no longer loved her.

  But Jack did not answer. He was transforming before her, into the fearful vision she’d seen before. The terrifying horned angel with the magnificent wings, clad in golden armor. Abbadon, the Angel of Destruction. The Dark Angel of the Apocalypse.

  “What does Lucifer want with me?” she asked softly.

  “I think you know.”

  “The Gate of Promise.”

  “You are the key,” Abbadon said. “You will bring us into Paradise. And Heaven will crumble under our domain.”

  PART THE THIRD

  THE SINS

  OF THE FATHER

  While everyone’s lost, the battle is won.

  —The Killers, “All These Things That I’ve Done”

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Gabrielle

  remember everything now.

  I had decided to walk after the performance. The music moved me, it was so beautiful and sad. But I was happy. We were happy then. You and I. We had learned to love this world, and we had not yet known despair. I had discovered something that could change our world forever, and I’d meant to tell you but I wanted to be sure. It was a wonderful secret, and I’d planned to tell you that we would soon be home in Eden.

  I went past the courtyard and down the steps, and decided I would take the passages to visit our friends in Lutetia. But as I walked down, I heard something—a noise, something different. And I followed the noise to its source. The tunnels were different, and I realized I was no longer in this world, but in another. I was not even in the passages anymore.

  I was on a di
fferent path.

  I heard his voice, booming in the darkness. The voice of our friend and emperor. Gaius. The one they called Caligula. Addressing his people.

  I turned the corner and I saw.

  Their eyes glittered crimson and silver; their fangs outstretched. I saw their hunger and greed, and I knew all was lost. That Gaius was Lucifer, hidden among us, and that he had discovered the Paths of the Dead, and he would lead an army of the Fallen and demons to take this world.

  So I ran.

  I ran away, to tell you, to warn you, to warn us all about the betrayal that was in the Coven, that we had nursed and nurtured among us.

  I ran.

  And Lucifer followed me.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Mimi

  ingsley’s sword was at her throat. “Why is this happening again?” he asked. “Why do we always seem to find ourselves here?”

  “Destiny, I suppose,” Mimi said, finally breaking her silence; though she knew it probably wasn’t the time for joking around.

  “You know I love you,” he said.

  “Do you? You’re so in love with me you’ve been running around with half the girls in London?” she said with a raised eyebrow.

  “They meant nothing—and I did nothing with them. I tried to forget you. God knows. I was mad. I tried to find something—anything—that would make me forget you. But no one could. I’ve been faithful, I swear. Appearances can be deceiving. You of all people should know that.”

  Mimi continued to glare at him even as she felt a tremendous sense of relief.

  Kingsley brushed his sword on her skin like a caress. “And I know you love me. You told me that you’d love me no matter what, and I should remember that. So why are you trying to get me to forget that now?”

  “Because this is how it has to end,” she said.

  “You know that’s not what I want,” he said, but Mimi could see doubt in his eyes. He didn’t understand why she was doing this, and that was good. She needed to confuse him, to convince him that she was hateful.

  He was better off without her. He’d have a chance at happiness, at a better life. He could find someone else, someone who wasn’t so complicated, so difficult. Someone nice. That was a word no one would ever use to describe her.

  Kingsley’s sword hovered at her neck, then slashed at the collar of her blouse.

  “Hey!” she cried. “Careful! It’s Chanel!”

  But his eyes were locked on the emerald stone sitting at the base of her throat.

  “Is that what I think it is?” he said, horrified.

  Lucifer’s Bane. The Star of Heaven. A treasure more precious than the stars themselves. Given by the Morningstar to his dearest love.

  “I told you, I am with him now,” Mimi said. “He is my Dark Prince and master.”

  FORTY-NINE

  Schuyler

  n the shore of the river of gold, the victor’s city shall once again rise on the threshold of the Gate of Promise.

  He had taken her to the gate, hidden deep underneath the oldest standing church in the city: St. John’s Chapel in the Tower of London. Down beneath the church, in the tunnel that led to the Paths of the Dead, and toward the stone altar in the middle of the passage.

  The Gate of Promise was a slab with a circle cut out of the center, and paths had been carved into the stone surrounding it. Almost like one of those puzzles with a miniature pinball in it.

  Jack laid her on the stone, and it felt cold upon her back. For the first time, she was truly afraid. She understood now what the grooves in the slab were for, and how the gate would be opened. A pathway of blood. Once again, the gate’s destruction would demand a sacrifice.

  “Jack,” she cried as he leaned down toward her neck, his fangs outstretched, until she could feel their sharpness on her skin and a trickle of blood. His body lay heavily on hers, and she could feel their hearts beating in tandem. She had told him the truth—that he could take what he wanted from her—and when he sank his fangs into her neck, she felt the same shudder of ecstasy and pleasure that it had always brought her. Her blood mingling with his. She felt his spirit overwhelm her, and she opened herself to him. He was drinking from her so deeply, and she surrendered—if this was death, then she would welcome it. She wanted to be one with him, for all eternity. She could feel a change within him, a quickening, an excitement. He was cold no longer, but warm, so warm again. But he had never taken her like this before, and she felt dizzy and weak. He was taking too much from her, too much blood—and it fell upon the stone, and the etchings on its slab came alive, awakened, opened.…

  And still he drank as he held her down, keeping her hands at her sides. His grip was like ice, shackles around her wrist. Pleasure and pain, life and death, blood and sacrifice.

  Finally he stopped and released his fangs, but now she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. He whispered in her ear, and for a moment, Schuyler thought she was safe. That he had returned to her at last.

  Jack shook his head. “I’m not going to kill you,” he said softly.

  “Because I am,” said an unfamiliar voice.

  Schuyler looked up to the sound and saw that Lucifer and his armies were massed behind Jack. The Fallen angels, their demons and trolls; Hellhounds and every creature of Hell were ready and waiting.

  For the sacrifice.

  For her blood to open the gate.

  FIFTY

  Gabrielle

  could feel him. He was calling for me. His voice, so beautiful even then. He was saying:

  Gabrielle. Do not fear. Do not fear me. I love you. I will not harm you.

  Stop.

  Stop and listen to me.

  Gabrielle, my light. Stop for me.

  But I knew if I stopped I was lost. I knew that he had planned this all along, from the very beginning.

  As I ran away from him. I saw someone in the passages.

  A girl.

  She had beautiful red hair and green eyes.

  My daughter. My daughter with him. I could see it in her sadness. The scar through her shirt. I knew what had put it there. I could see the remnants of your sword shattered in her soul; knew that its power had healed her.

  I understood then, that this was not the end.

  This was only the beginning.

  But maybe there was hope.

  There was a boy with her. A wolf. And I knew. I knew how to get help.

  I could see the past, the present, and the future.

  I brought her close to me.

  I whispered in her ear.

  FIFTY-ONE

  Bliss

  other.”

  “Lupus Theliel. My wolfsbane.”

  “What is happening to you? We can help.”

  “You cannot stop this from happening. He will come for me. And it will be done.”

  “No!”

  “There is nothing you can do now.”

  “No,” Bliss sobbed. “He will destroy you.”

  “Listen—the wolves—the Praetorian Guard—they will rise here—they will help Michael defeat the demons and their king for now.…And when Lucifer returns, you must have them by your side.” Gabrielle looked at Lawson. “Fenrir, it is up to you to restore what has been broken.”

  “We cannot free them. The passages are blocked. We have been unable to return to the underworld,” Lawson explained.

  “This is our only chance, then,” Gabrielle said. “He will take me, and he will be distracted. When it happens, the path will be open.” She turned to Lawson. “Open the portal and it will take you where you need to go.”

  “We can’t leave you here!” cried Bliss.

  “It is too late for me.”

  “Mother…”

  “It has already happened,” Gabrielle said. “Nothing can change that.”

  She turned away from them and kept running.

  And they saw him.

  Lucifer.

  He appeared in the tunnel as his true immortal form. He was beautiful and golden, his wings str
etched to their full span. He stopped Gabrielle from running, appeared right in front of her.

  Took her in his arms.

  “Gabrielle.”

  Now!

  “Lawson! The portal!” Bliss whispered.

  He did not hesitate. He took her hand and Malcolm’s in his.

  The passage opened before them, and they jumped through.

  FIFTY-TWO

  Schuyler

  he Prince of Darkness, the King of Hell, the Morningstar, the Lightbringer, Lucifer the Archangel of the Dawn, stood before her. He was so beautiful, just as he had been on that mountaintop in Rio, when Schuyler had first seen him. His beauty was painful to behold. His light was stronger than the sun’s. He was Heaven’s son personified.

  Schuyler could not move. Jack no longer had his arms around her, but she was held by a dark enchantment, bound to the stone altar. She was so weak, she had lost too much blood, she could hardly move even without her bonds.

  Lucifer smiled and caressed her hair. “As beautiful as your mother, perhaps even more so.”

  “Don’t talk about my mother. You don’t know anything about my mother,” Schuyler said, finding it difficult even to speak.

  “On the contrary, my dear. Your mother and I…well, let’s just say we are very, very old friends. I know Gabrielle perhaps too intimately. I finally understood this was what she was hiding from me. It was so easy to find after all. So this is what she had been planning. Salvation. Redemption. There will be no redemption today. Only revenge and triumph.”