The Liberator dw-2

by Victoria Scott

  “What is it?” Blue asks. “What else does it say?”

  Charlie meets my gaze. “It says the battle will be won by two girls born on the same day, in the same year. Two girls—a savior and a soldier.”

  The world tilts, and I’m falling. I catch myself on the edge of Charlie’s bed.

  “Oh, God,” Valery says, “Charlie is the savior and…and…”

  Blue grabs a nearby lamp and launches it across the room. “And Aspen is the soldier!” he roars, pointing a finger at me. “She’s the soldier, and you left her there. You left her!”

  “Blue, stop,” Charlie begs. But he’s already gone.

  I cover my face, remembering when Aspen said it was her birthday. When she told me it was she who taught Lincoln how to fight, and not the other way around.

  There it is—the reason Aspen Lockhart is so important. She wasn’t meant to help rescue Charlie’s soul from hell. And she wasn’t meant to return my own soul to my body. She was destined to stand beside Charlie in a war between heaven and hell, and now she’s locked beneath the earth.

  I raise my hand like I’m asking a question, but honestly, I’m not sure what I’m doing.

  Everyone looks at me.

  “It’s okay, right?” I run a hand over my forehead, thinking. “We’ll go down and get Aspen. All of us. And then we’ll be ready for this battle, if it ever happens.”

  Valery’s gaze lands on Kraven. He shifts uncomfortably.

  “What?” I ask. “What else are you hiding?”

  “Not hiding. It’s just…” Kraven clears his throat. “All liberators must complete training.”

  I laugh. What he said is just too ludicrous. Beside me, Charlie reaches out her hand. I press our clasped hands against my thigh. “You’re crazy if you think I’m waiting more than a day to go back for her,” I tell Kraven. “We’re going. We can’t leave her there. You heard what the scroll said. Plus…plus she just can’t be in hell. She’s our friend. She’s been with us—”

  “Dante.” Valery moves toward me.

  I shake my head. “I’m not listening to this. We’re not training while she’s in hell. I won’t sit here and—”

  “Dante!” Valery’s tone shocks me into silence. She straightens her green dress and touches a hand to her chest. There’s something else she knows, something she’s about to say but I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to freaking hear it. She says it, anyway. “Our king handed down orders.”

  She glances at Kraven for support.

  “Well, what is it?” I growl.

  Valery looks at Annabelle and then at Charlie and finally at me. “He has declared war on hell,” she says. “We’re going to war.”

  …

  Later that night, when everyone is asleep and Charlie is in my arms, I think about what Valery said, that Big Guy has declared war on hell. The liberators will fight. And I’ll get my chance to settle the score with Rector once and for all. But what of Lucille? Will he fight, too? And if so, how will we ever defeat him?

  I stroke a finger across Charlie’s cheek and watch her chest rise and fall gently. She’s safe beside me. I take one of her hands and inspect it. Such power radiated from these hands, power she never knew existed. I place her arm next to her side and smile to myself. The savior is dreaming and working her bottom lip as if she’s talking.

  My angel, the savior. How many times did she tell me she loved me as we lay here, buried in these blankets? Too many to count, and way too few to satisfy either of us.

  I brush my lips against her ear and whisper, “Forever.” I hope she hears my words in her dream world. With my head back on the pillow, I push myself closer to her small sleeping body and kiss the back of her neck.

  Charlie and Aspen are destined to do great things—a savior and a soldier.

  And me?

  I’m only what Charlie—and Aspen—need me to be now. Fire rages through my veins as I think about protecting these two girls. About what I’ll do if either are hurt.

  I no longer belong to hell. And I do not belong to heaven.

  I am not a collector.

  And I am not a liberator.

  I am a warrior.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you first to Laurie McLean for loving Dante Walker as much as any agent could (or should?). I’ll be forever grateful to you for launching my career as a writer.

  Thank you to Liz Pelletier, Heather Riccio, Jessica Estep, Stacy Abrams, and the entire team at Entangled Teen for loving Dante’s bad boy ways. You guys rock.

  Hugs to Wendy Higgins, Brigid Kemmerer, and Trisha Wolfe for reading early versions of The Liberator and for laughing at Dante’s antics.

  Thank you to my entire family—the one I was born with, and the one I married into—for the endless love and support. A big shout out to Peggy, Hassan, Kristi, Nancy, and Tommy for pushing Dante Walker books into people’s hands.

  Love, love to my grandma, Jo Ford, who is part of my family but deserves special attention for believing her granddaughter can do no wrong. Sometimes it feels like no one understands me the way you do. Thank you for teaching me that it’s every girl’s perfect right to be pampered shamelessly.

  To Angee, Gianina, Laryssa, and Jaga—fabulous friends who ask about my books every time I see them.

  Huge thanks to Felger & Friends Hair Salon— especially Teresa Gomez, for the fabulous airbrush makeup, and Tyse Kimball, for working wonders with my hair—for making me feel like a rock star for The Liberator release party.

  To the V Mafia, and to all of Dante’s fans, thank you for everything. Without you and your continued enthusiasm, my job wouldn’t be half as fun. I adore you guys.

  And finally, always, to my husband, Ryan. You totally came up with Dante Walker (no, you didn’t), and I love you for that (I love you for other things, but not that). I can’t imagine my life without you, boo. You’re the only husband who’d watch his wife put on a play with stuffed animals and question the character’s intentions with a serious face. I love you…forever.

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