Beneath her, the Colorado River continued its winding course that supposedly led to heaven. Her heaven would be in hell with Michael by her side, but her path to that place was as obscure as the pathway they’d tried to use to find heaven.
* * *
Peter had told them what to do and still they had failed. Abaddon had been too carried away with his newfound position. He’d had to display the wings. Now they were back in the possession of the daemon king. Thankfully, Peter had acted quickly to remove himself from danger. Samuel’s daughter was more powerful than he had imagined. Even without the half daemon and the hellhound, she hadn’t been defeated.
The roadblock the Rogues had created to stop tourist buses from entering reservation lands was dismantled easily enough. The handful of lesser daemons and human slaves Abaddon had left with the SUVs and cars simply drove away. Peter was sure that some visitor center staff had been killed. Rogues wouldn’t let a few murders stand in their way.
None of them had offered him their blood to heal his injury faster. Even after he’d told them about Michael and the hellhound. He’d given them every advantage and they had left him to suffer for the months it would take his body to heal.
He’d miscalculated again. And he was no closer to his goal than he’d been before he’d sold his soul to the Rogues. He almost kept driving. It might be better to disappear and recuperate. His life would be long. He could hide while generations rose and fell and fought battles without him until he could make another bid for power.
He’d seen Abaddon fall from his hiding place behind the building.
His followers were still loyal to the arrogant Rogue.
Instead of driving away, Peter drove back to the motel. Abaddon was no mere mortal, but even a daemon wouldn’t have survived that fall. Peter would tell the Rogues what he had seen. He would prove he was still loyal to their cause. If he helped them to retrieve Abaddon’s body, then perhaps he could maneuver himself into a more powerful position long enough to use the lesser daemons before a new leader arrived. He might not have to wait generations to punish Samuel’s daughter and the bastard prince.
Chapter 16
Grim had risen to his feet, but he’d fallen after only a few strides. Michael had lifted him and carried him to the parking lot where half a dozen cars had been abandoned by daemons or workers who staffed the skywalk. He’d gone back inside then to check for survivors, but he’d come back out grimly shaking his head. It wasn’t his fault that humans had died, but she could see him accept the burden of their deaths all the same.
Lily had climbed into the back seat with the hellhound. He’d rested his great head on her lap, seeming to relish her soft pats and reassurances. Michael hadn’t mentioned the seating when he got behind the wheel. She’d watched him remove the wings and place them in the trunk of the huge sedan. She was afraid when he removed the wings that he would degenerate back to a weakened state, but he hadn’t. They had driven for miles. Occasionally, their gazes met in the rearview mirror, but they both looked away.
The wings were silent, but both occupants of the car were completely aware of what they signified.
Even the static-filled radio station that Michael eventually chose after hours of surfing didn’t drown out the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. Grim couldn’t take them to the hell dimension. He was too weak. Lily would have to get them there. A sipapu portal would be their only means. And she would need to rest before she could summon the spirits to help her find one that hadn’t been sealed.
It was fitting that she’d have to take full responsibility for delivering Michael and the wings for his twenty-first birthday celebration where she would meet Ezekiel’s beloved D’Arcy family for the first time.
Lily’s head had slumped time and time again, but she’d managed to right it before Michael noticed in the rearview mirror. They needed to get as far away from the skywalk as possible. Their power had been epically released. Every daemon and all the damned in the area would sense her like a beacon. In order to rest, they had to run away. She tried to stay conscious. She fought the swoon that hollowed her insides out. Her body had been completely depleted. She’d nibbled the burned bars left in her backpack, but it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t sure she could consume enough this time. Touching Lucifer’s wings had been a bad idea. She had no daemon blood. She was a human woman with a gift. Or a curse. Her affinity hadn’t protected her from the scorch. It was as if she had been burned, inside and out.
Michael hadn’t noticed. Not her weakness. Not her burned arms. She was beneath Grim’s bulk and his shifting fur hid her injuries. But even though she was hidden, Michael balanced concern for her well-being with what needed to be done. They needed to get away, but he would know that she needed to refuel as soon as possible. He’d seen her summon before. He knew the physical toll summoning exacted. As the sun began to set, he pulled into a used-car lot that was almost ready to close for the day. Michael used a card from his wallet to call on the Turov resources. His stepfather’s Brimstone-enhanced lifespan had resulted in extreme success. His vineyard had been uniquely overseen by a single man for a century and his wisdom and experience had paid off. As Michael exchanged vehicles, she stood apart from Grim long enough for Michael to see her arms through the thin material of the shirt.
“What did they do to you while I was unconscious?” he said. He came to her side, but he didn’t touch her. He only examined her burns from a distance.
“It’s not as bad as it looks. I’ll be fine,” Lily said.
“The first time I saw the friezes on the walls of the palace I was horrified. But the Rogues that did this to you deserve to be punished for eternity,” Michael said, softly. He fisted his hands as he spoke and Lily suspected he’d like the immediate satisfaction of punishing them himself.
“Justice takes time. And penance even longer,” Lily said. “Redemption is as elusive as Grim’s smoke.”
“You grew up in the palace. How did you ever become used to the carvings on the wall? The sentient stone. The tormented faces. The writhing figures,” Michael asked. The money he’d offered the salesman for a quick, no-questions-asked sale had been enough to ensure discretion and speed. Before Lily swayed on her feet, the keys were in Michael’s hand. He’d already placed Grim in the back seat of the car he’d bought. It wasn’t a vintage Firebird, but it was the kind of old boxy sedan they would need. Nothing to spark interest as they traveled farther away from the skywalk.
“You’ve seen my rooms. They’re kept separate from the main body of the palace. I’ve always seen them as a blessed retreat. No damnation allowed,” Lily said. “But of course I saw the walls and ceilings whenever I walked along the corridors or visited other parts of the palace. My mother told me it was better than Oblivion.” Lily hesitated before she continued, softly, “Ezekiel could do no wrong in her eyes.”
“The souls trapped in the walls bother you as much as they bother me,” Michael guessed.
“I’m bothered because Ezekiel can’t let go of the past or the anger that corrodes his present possibilities,” Lily answered. “The weight of all those condemned souls condemns him to sadness. When the walls of your home are tainted with Rogue hate, how can you find any happiness?”
“It was wrong when the Rogue Council used l’Opéra Severne’s walls as a prison for Loyalists. It’s wrong for Loyalists to do the same to Rogues within the palace walls,” Michael said. “That’s revenge. Not justice.”
Lily met his gaze over the car’s roof. When he became king, he would be the warden of a prison he hated. Yet another reason for guilt to gnaw at her heart. He had a deal with Ezekiel to deliver the wings. But how much would her affinity influence his decisions once he was in the hell dimension?
She got in the front seat this time. Grim was resting peacefully and she didn’t want to shift his body again to make room in the back seat. Michael got in and drove
the car to the nearest gas station to fill up the tank. Lily didn’t have to ask him for food. He bought several bottles of juice and packages of nuts and sunflower seeds when he went inside to pay for the gas. He even opened the lid of the first two bottles for her and waited for her to gulp them down before he discarded the empties in the trash. She nursed the third, sipping small swallows as she thoughtfully chewed and Michael finally pulled away.
He headed south. In a different direction than they’d been traveling before, but still always traveling away from the structure they had inadvertently helped destroy. The sooner they were able to retreat to the hell dimension, the better. No witnesses had been left at the skywalk, but someone might have seen them driving away. They couldn’t be certain that the money they’d given the used-car salesman would be enough to keep him from remembering a scorched girl, a giant hideous dog and a man with banked fire in his eyes.
Silently, Lily vowed to make Ezekiel donate the resources necessary to rebuild the bridge.
“I’m going to drive through the night,” Michael said. “You need to rest. We’ll stop in the morning. By then, maybe you’ll be strong enough to perform another ceremony.”
“I’m feeling better. Find a discreet place to stop and I’ll find a sipapu with the spirits’ help. And I’ll lead us back to hell,” Lily said. “Ezekiel won’t be happy if we’re late for your birthday celebration.”
“You’d endanger your health for him,” Michael said. He kept driving. There was no use to pretend she was stronger than she was with Michael. He would be able to sense her weakened affinity. She closed her eyes instead. She hoped he didn’t put two and two together and figure out that she’d risk all for both of the people she loved, Michael and Ezekiel, even with no hope of love in return.
* * *
Lily was completely depleted. And injured. She hadn’t let him look at the burns, but he could tell they were worse than she let on. He didn’t give a damn about getting the wings to Ezekiel or showing up for his birthday, but he did know that Sybil could help Lily with the burns. His former nanny had helped to save him when he’d nearly burned up from the inside out as a baby. His brain burned with plans to keep Lily from Rogues, help her refuel, and flee to the hell dimension.
He didn’t think about donning the wings again.
Not. Once.
They had released him after he’d done what he needed to do to save Grim. They’d practically leapt off his shoulders. He’d been compelled to take them off and stow them away.
He wouldn’t easily forget the incredible feeling of being wholly himself for the first time, but in a strange way he thought the feeling came more from using his Brimstone to save Grim than wearing the wings. The wings had helped him focus. They’d given his injured body strength.
But they still didn’t call to him.
The idea that he might wear them for the rest of his life after tomorrow night didn’t seem right.
But the idea that he needed to protect Lily from the daemon king and from her own desire to please the only father she’d ever known? That idea drove him through the night.
* * *
The needs of her depleted body had taken over around midnight. She’d fallen asleep with visions of an endless highway illuminated by headlights behind her lids. When she woke at dawn, she was ravenous again. The sight of a glowing car-sized waffle smothered in butter reflected in the windshield startled her, but then she blinked and saw it was a sign for a restaurant. Michael had pulled the car to a stop beneath the sign. He’d already let Grim out to explore. The sudden cessation of movement plus the sound of the car doors had woken her. Lily’s stomach gurgled and she breathed deeply. Sweet dough and bacon scents filled the interior of the car. Okay. Her hunger had woken her. Definitely.
Unfortunately, she was in no shape to go inside and order. Her shirt had dried crustily to her wounds and the rest of her wasn’t much better off. Michael was at the passenger-side door now. He opened it and handed her a plastic bag from a familiar discount store.
“First, we’ll get you cleaned up. Then you eat. Real food. Not protein bars or snack food,” Michael said. “There are some medical supplies in there, too, and the key to the restrooms on the side of the restaurant. It seems fairly clean for a sixty-year-old fast-food joint.”
“And it has bacon.” Lily practically drooled.
“Yeah. That was the deciding factor,” Michael said.
He didn’t reach to help her from the car. He couldn’t. If they had managed to shake the Rogues, one touch between them would instantly make her a beacon once more. He held the door, but kept his distance while she got shakily to her feet. She had to grab the door to steady herself and they were suddenly separated by nothing but steel and glass. It wasn’t enough barrier between them. Lily looked up into Michael’s eyes. He simmered. The thrill of affinity rose in her breast, but she tamped it down. His jaw worked, clenching and unclenching, while he seemed to do the same.
“Go. Please. I’m starving, but even bacon isn’t enough to distract me from you,” Michael said.
Lily went. She was faint with hunger, but nothing would fill her as well as indulging their connection filled her. She would never be full again. She could be more comfortable and clean, though.
The restroom was surprisingly well-tended. It had a fresh stock of paper towels, antibacterial soap and plenty of hot water. The worst part of the whole process was peeling away the shirt from her skin. Once she persevered through that, she was able to wash and slather on an antibiotic cream Michael had purchased. The bag he’d given her also had a change of clothes and bandages. He’d been considerate enough to choose a soft loose shirt that didn’t press on the gauze once she’d wrapped her burns. Its long sleeves hid her bandages. By the time she washed her face, smoothed her hair back, and donned jeans and sneakers, she felt almost human.
She was also pretty sure she was going to shock the waitress by how much she was prepared to consume.
* * *
The entire meal was a delicious, buttery blur with highlights of warmed blueberry syrup and mountains of crisp, salty bacon fried up on a cast-iron griddle the size of their sedan. Michael ate only a little less than she did. Once they were both satiated, he tipped the waitress big to justify her numerous trips between the griddle and their table.
Lily sipped a mug of plain black coffee to offset the sweetness of the syrup. Only then did she think about the locals eating and drinking their usual orders at the Formica-and-chrome counter while Lucifer’s wings sat in the trunk of a car behind their backs. The parking lot was full of old cars and trucks that were the contemporaries of the boxy used car they’d purchased. It had been a good call. No one would think there was anything beyond jumper cables and ancient flares in its trunk.
Grim had returned from wherever he’d gone to hunt his breakfast. He lay by the rear of their car looking like an oversize German shepherd. He guarded the wings. Not to mention her dolls and her father’s sword.
“We passed a rock formation several miles back. I think that will be the best place for you to perform the ceremony,” Michael said, quietly. She wanted to kiss the maple syrup off his lips. Of course, that wasn’t possible. Instead, she wiped her mouth with the faded linen napkin and stood.
“Happy birthday in advance,” she said. She wanted to tell him now, before they were at an opulent party in the depths of hell tomorrow night. And before she had to leave him there with Ezekiel and the D’Arcys.
“Do what you have to do,” Michael said. “We need to get you to safety.”
Had she ever been safe? The warrior angel kachina doll seemed to indicate that her future had been foretold before she’d even been born. And any future that forced her to choose between Michael Turov’s destiny and refuge wasn’t one that was meant to be safe for her. She wouldn’t lure him to the throne, then keep him there. He had to know his
decision to rule was entirely up to his own head and heart.
Chapter 17
The rocks were high on a rise above the road, but accessible by a worn slope others had used before. Michael was able to park on a level area behind the formation so that the sedan was hidden from passing vehicles. With midday approaching, it was doubtful anyone would stop for photographs, as heat already shimmered in waves above the golden-brown earth warmed by a cloudless sky and glaring sun.
The largest boulder was roughly triangular in shape and Lily decided to utilize the shade it provided for her circle of kachinas. Michael stood with his back to her also sheltered by one of the rocks, but facing the road. He would see if anyone paused or turned their car onto the slope they had taken up the hill. Grim, revealing his true hellhound nature, had winked out of existence only to materialize on the rock nearest Michael. He was undeterred by the fact that its surface must have been as hot as the griddle they’d left back at the waffle house. He lay in the shadows created by taller boulders against the one he was using as a perch, looking like a shadow himself. He watched the road as well.
Lily left the Fire kachina wrapped and in her bag. She was hesitant to use it again so soon. It had become her most powerful element, one she wasn’t sure she could control. She also left the warrior angel wrapped, but she did allow her fingers to touch it lightly as she gathered the other dolls. Its coolness soothed in the heat. The sudden tingle in her chilled hand felt like a hello. But she didn’t want to antagonize Michael so she left it in the bag. Controlling his Brimstone was so important to him. He wore his scars like a constant reminder of what might be if he embraced his heritage. She didn’t want him to think she consciously threatened that control. He had worn the wings to save Grim, but he hadn’t worn them since. Just like her, he was led by instinct and experience. For some reason, he still rejected the wings even though he had worn them so well in that moment to save his loyal hellhound friend.
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