Gates of Paradise, The (Blue Bloods Novel)

by Melissa de la Cruz

  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.”

  Lucifer bent down by her neck, and Schuyler cringed away from him and closed her eyes tightly, preparing for his fangs to pierce her skin.

  But he suddenly recoiled. “Abbadon! You drank from her!”

  “My apologies, my lord, the temptation was too great.” Jack bowed.

  “Yes, I see,” Lucifer growled. “No matter.” The Dark Prince took his sword and cut her throat, opening her jugular, and her lifeblood poured out of her, onto the stone tablet, opening the gate. A river of blood…

  So this was death. Schuyler had wondered if she had inherited the immortality of her mother’s kin, and now she knew. She had not. She was mortal. She could die, and she would die now. Today.

  She could no longer speak, no longer think. But she held on to the one thing that she knew was true. Her love.

  Jack…Jack…my love…help me…she sent. Even if he would not answer, she still held on to him. He was all she had at the last.

  Only Jack.

  She stared at him, at his blank eyes, and she prepared for death, prepared for the end of her life.

  I have nothing to regret. I regret nothing. She had tried and failed everyone—her mother, Lawrence, the Coven. She had failed Jack as well. By falling in love with him she had doomed him. But even so, she could not regret their love. She had tried her best and she had lost.

  She closed her eyes as her life drained from her.

  Then, all at once, through the fog, as if from very very far away, Schuyler heard him. Heard his voice in her head.

  Jack’s voice.

  Reaching out to her like a lifeline, a light in the dark. Just as she’d hoped. Perhaps the Sacred Kiss had returned him to her somehow.

  But when he spoke, his voice was cold and cruel.

  Only your father can help you now, Jack sent, as he stood at Lucifer’s side, watching her die.

  FIFTY-THREE

  Mimi

  don’t believe it,” Kingsley said, staring at the emerald stone that yoked her to Lucifer. “I don’t believe it for a second.”

  But Mimi was tired of waiting and tired of playing this game. He was so close to her and so dear, and if she did not do it now, she would never have the courage again, and so she pulled on his sword and brought it against her throat, wanting to end it all, to save him even if she could not save herself.

  She waited for death.

  But death did not come.

  Kingsley was faster, stronger, and instead of letting his blade cleave her in two, he directed it toward the heart of the emerald.

  “No!” she screamed.

  The emerald burst into White Flame and disappeared.

  Mimi blinked her eyes open. She was alive and Kingsley was alive. The terrible dark burden had fallen from her shoulders.

  She threw herself into his arms and sobbed.

  Kingsley clasped her to him and they fell backward to the floor, and he was kissing her, and she was kissing him with a passion that surprised even her.

  He was smiling. He was so handsome and brave, and he held her as if he would never let her go.

  “How did you do that?” she asked.

  “The godsfire. We have equipped all of our swords with the power of the Holy Spirit. It destroyed Lucifer’s Bane. So what’s going on? Are you going to tell me?”

  She told him everything, just as the door opened with a bang.

  Oliver stood there, babbling and hysterical. He had used the Venator’s code that Kingsley had given him in secret to track them to the safe house. “Schuyler! They took Schuyler—they’re bringing her to the gate!”

  FIFTY-FOUR

  Lupus Theliel

  hey had returned to the underworld, collected the rest of the pack in the passages, and returned to their former home. Bliss could see the smoke, smell the fire, and breathe the ash of the barren lands, the forgotten world, where nothing grew and everything was dead. The eternally gray skies hung above them.

  “I hope you remember your way around here,” Bliss whispered.

  “Like it was yesterday,” Lawson replied. “Come on, the wolves are in their dens.”

  “What about the trolls? And the masters?” Malcolm asked.

  “What about them?” Lawson smiled.

  “You are not afraid,” Bliss said.

  He shook his head. “Your mother. The Angel of the Lord. Gabrielle. She called me Fenrir.”

  Bliss realized he had never believed it before. Even after he had destroyed Romulus—even after everything he had been able to accomplish. Lawson hadn’t believed in himself. Could not accept that he was the one who would lead the wolves out of enslavement.

  With a great roar, Lawson transformed into the great wolf, and Fenrir stood before Bliss. He was larger than Romulus; larger than any beast of Hell.

  His strength will break our chains.

  In his spirit we shall be reborn.

  Bliss looked at the pack: they had transformed as well. The wolves stood in a circle around her. Their eyes were shining with the blue crescent sigils that marked them as Fenrir’s own.

  She was alone.

  She was no longer a vampire.

  But as she discovered, she was no longer human either.

  She looked down at herself. Her claws. Felt the sharpness of her fangs. Different from the vampire fangs. She felt the strength in her body, in her animal nature.

  She was one of them.

  Whatever her mother had done, she had done this. Given her the wolf gift. Given her the strength to belong.

  Lawson nuzzled her. You are truly one of the pack now. Run with me.

  The wolves howled, a battle cry, a warning:

  We are coming. We are coming, my brothers and sisters.

  Fenrir has returned.

  We shall break your chains. We shall lead you into freedom.

  We shall bring war upon our enemies.

  Arise, arise! It is our time. The War of Heaven is upon us. Arise, wolves of the den, wolves of the guard. Arise and defeat the enemy we slew once before.

  FIFTY-FIVE

  Schuyler

  y father? Schuyler wondered, even as she felt her consciousness beginning to fade; as her lifeblood seeped out and death approached.

  My father?

  Why would Jack tell her that her father could help her?

  How could he be so merciless to say such a thing?

  My father is dead. My father is buried in the ground. He is no help to anyone.

  Then she realized…

  Her father.

  Her immortal father.

  Charles Force. Michael. Her father. This was Allegra’s secret. This was the key of the twins, the sangreal. Schuyler had had a human father to create a new life, but somehow, she was also Michael and Gabrielle’s daughter.

  Schuyler remembered those days at the hospital, at Allegra’s bedside, and her in
tuition, the thought that had popped into her head when she’d seen the gray-haired man kneeling in her mother’s room, asking for her forgiveness. What had she called him then? Father.

  They had the same dark hair, though his had gone gray. They shared a bond that neither of them had acknowledged. For Allegra’s secret had been hidden so deeply when she’d broken the bond, when she’d married her human familiar. The truth of Schuyler’s heritage had to remain a secret, even from her own father.

  Father.

  Help me.

  Help me.

  Father.

  From the White Darkness, a sword appeared in her hand.

  Michael’s sword.

  The Blade of Paradise. The Golden Sword of Heaven.

  Her father’s sword.

  She gripped its hilt and slashed at the invisible bindings that held her, and she could feel the strength returning to her body, could feel the wound on her neck begin to heal. She leapt from the stone table, holding her sword aloft.

  Lucifer roared and urged his dark armies to her destruction, and Schuyler cowered as the Dark Prince lunged toward her with hatred in his eyes, his own sword blazing white with the fire of Heaven.

  But the blow never landed, as Jack threw himself upon her to shield her from the attack.

  “Jack!” she screamed.

  He looked at her tenderly, and she knew that he had never been false. That there had been a reason for his actions. He had drunk from her, she realized now, to keep Lucifer from doing the same.

  “Hey you.” She smiled and traced a finger on his cheek. “Where have you been?”

  “Right here, always,” Jack murmured, kissing her all over her face, her neck. But there was little time for tenderness.

  Lucifer reared up with ferocious strength, and the Dark Prince loomed over them. His fangs bared, he was no longer beautiful, no longer bright as the sun, but revealed as Hell’s eternal king, as the horrific monster he was, dark and twisted and evil. Schuyler held on to Jack and prepared for Lucifer to do his worst.

  But out of the shadows, out of the darkness, powerful beasts emerged, ready for blood. The wolves of the guard.

  FIFTY-SIX

  Bliss

  he wolves crashed into the battle, meeting their former masters with tooth and claw. With froth on their lips and blood in their mouths. For revenge. For victory. For freedom.

  They had followed Fenrir as he raced back through the passages, toward the Gate of Promise, which Gabrielle had shown him, and appeared at the stone tablet just as Schuyler held Michael’s sword aloft.

  “Destroy our enemies!” Fenrir roared. “Make them feel our wrath, our revenge!”

  Bliss saw Schuyler through the chaos and wanted to run to her, but there was no time. The battle was upon them. They would fight or they would die. The wolves had thrown off their chains; they were savage and ferocious. Demon-fighters. Demon-killers.

  Silver against flesh, the White Fire of Heaven against the beasts of Hell. The wolves fought bravely and courageously, but their numbers were no match for the godsfire, for the flame that seared their very souls.

  They ran howling to the edges, howling in retreat.

  Until a blaze of light shone from the darkness.

  A light that was just as bright as the godsfire—even brighter—this was the light from the Holy Grail, blessed by the spirit of the Son of God. The true light of Heaven.

  The Venators had come.

  FIFTY-SEVEN

  Mimi

  he Angels Araquiel and Azrael had come to fight for the Light, to defend Heaven’s Gate against its enemies. They flew into battle with a team of angels, arrayed in their golden armor, while everywhere, horns, horns, horns rang in triumph, just as when Michael had led the angels so long ago.

  Their swords were aflame with the godsfire, and their hearts were pure and joyous as they fell upon the demons and their Silver Blood brethren.

  They said there was no more beautiful sight that day than Araquiel cleaving the demon Leviathan in two, and bringing death to the death mongers. Azrael was a mighty valkyrie, her talons aflame with the light, and the demons cowered and fell upon their swords and scattered.

  With the wolves at their side, the angels fought valiantly, and the stone tablet ran red with the blood of their enemies.

  Azrael knelt down, taking a breath.

  “Victory is ours,” Araquiel said.

  “Yes,” Azrael whispered. But she stumbled, clutching her stomach, where she’d been wounded. The Black Fire had worked its way into her blood. It would consume her—she could feel its poison eating into her soul.

  “You are Azrael. You are stronger than this,” Araquiel said in despair. “You cannot leave me now.”

  “I don’t want to leave you,” Azrael whispered, but her lips were cold on his cheek, and he knew she did not have much time left.

  His tears fell upon her face, bathing her with his sorrow.

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  Schuyler

  he couldn’t find him. She couldn’t see where he had gone. They had been separated in the chaos of the fight. Jack—where are you? But all was smoke and flame, all was anarchy and war and ruin. The wolves were all around, and the Venators were fighting with every ounce of their souls. The vampires had transformed—they were angels now—just like at the battle that had cursed them to darkness. Now they were in the final battle for redemption, struggling to return to the paradise from which they had been banished.

  But where was Jack?

  Where was her love?

  Schuyler fought bravely and steadily, wielding her father’s blade, finding her way toward the forefront, until she found the two angels fighting against each other, the Dark against the Light, their golden swords clashing over the tablet. Then one slipped…and…

  Schuyler held her sword against his heart.

  Lucifer lay on the stone tablet.

  Michael’s sword holding him there.

  Schuyler could taste the victory of her people. This was it. Her chance to destroy him once and for all. To destroy the Dark Prince with the archangel’s sword.

  “You don’t want to do that,” Lucifer said calmly.

  “Believe me, there is nothing I want more,” she said.

  “You can’t see behind you,” he said. “But I can. Abbadon, would you like to describe what’s happening right now?” Lucifer asked. “Tell her what’s going on.”

  Jack? What’s happening?

  Do what you have to do. Take your chance. Do not think about me, Jack sent.

  “Oh, how sweet,” Lucifer said. “He’s going to sacrifice himself.”

  Schuyler knew. She could see it in the glom, in her mind’s eye, even without turning. Victory would be hollow.

  Danel held a blade under Jack’s throat. Schuyler could kill Lucifer, but Danel would kill Jack. She would win, but lose her love.

  And then she saw that it was not the first time someone had faced this choice. That once upon a time in Rome, her father had stood at the same crossroads.

  FIFTY-NINE

  Gabrielle

  could feel his arms around me. His wings surrounded me, their softness on my skin. I could feel his breath on my cheek, and his lips were on mine.

  Gabrielle.

  Then he stopped.

  You were there. You had found us.

  Michael.

  You held your sword against his throat.

  Victory at your grasp.

  Kill me, Lucifer whispered, and you kill Gabrielle.

  The demon held me in his arms, held the sword at my belly. He began to plunge the knife into me.

  But time froze.

  In that split second when the world stood still.

  And you dropped the blade.

  Pulled the devil’s sword away from me.

  I fell to the ground.

  Lucifer saw his chance and he slipped from your grasp.

  I lived.

  But you could have had your victory, Michael. We would have been rid of the dem
on that plagued our people, the demon that brought shame to the angels and cursed us into darkness. The demon who wanted Heaven for himself.

  You should have let me die.

  See what you did?

  We believed you had vanquished the Dark Prince.

  That you had sent him down to Hell.

  But you did not.

  You saved me instead.

  We thought you had rid the world of evil, but instead evil was allowed to return to the world, allowed to fester. Allowed to return in the form of my lover so the two of us would become further estranged. Allowed to hunt our kind over the centuries. You knew why the Blue Bloods were dying. You knew the Silver brethren were responsible. You kept it from me. You let them take us. You allowed the vampires to be taken, to be sacrificed, to hide your failure. You trained the Petruvians to kill innocents, and so the war continued between our kind. As your weakness grew, the Gates of Hell weakened as well. The borders between the worlds disintegrated.

  You were corrupted by your love.

  By giving in to your love, you let evil flourish in our world.

  And so I kept my secret. About the path that I had found. Kept the secret of our salvation from you because I trusted you no longer. Especially when I saw them. The young ones. Drained. Full Consumption. That’s when I ran into the arms of my human familiar. That was when I finally stopped loving you.

  This was your father’s great failure, Gabrielle whispered into Schuyler’s ear. Will it be yours? Will you choose love over all?

  So this was the choice, Schuyler saw. This was her destiny. This was what her mother had prepared her for.

  Schuyler struggled against it. This was different. It was not the same. She had Michael’s power and his sword. The wolves at her command. The Venators armed with the power of the Holy Spirit. She could save her love. She could save Jack, she knew she could, just as her father had saved Gabrielle. It was different this time. She would withdraw the sword. She could not sacrifice Jack. Not after everything they had been through; not after everything they had fought for. They had fought so hard to be together and she could still have both, victory and her love. She could still win, she knew it. There would be another chance. The battle was not over. She would not kill Lucifer right then. She could not sacrifice her love. Never. She could never lose Jack. She loved him too much. She would let the devil go.