“Not you. The people who worked here. The cops?” I clarified. “The ones who are hopefully still alive and breathing?”
“This is really freaky,” Teller murmured.
“There’s no one alive here,” the man growled. “Not even you. You’re already dead and you—”
“Blabbity-blah-blah. Whatever, man. You weren’t supposed to be here. You were probably a good person who should’ve moved on, but here we are. I’m not going to hold it against you unless you give me a reason to.” The dead girl reached for my braid. I shot her a look of warning. “Don’t even think about touching me,” I warned, summoning my grace until the corners of my eyes turned white. “I won’t just exorcise your ass from here, I will end you. Like permanently. So, back the Hell up.”
Her lips peeled back as she gave a low whine the Wardens seemed to hear. They stopped, turning to us.
My brows lifted. “Oh, you’re an old one, aren’t you? Been dead awhile. Cool. I’m superimpressed. Why don’t you tell me where the people are?”
She slunk back, her head hanging from an unnatural angle. “They’re right behind you.”
“I’m not talking about the people I’m with.” My patience was wearing thin. “Obviously.”
“I’m not, either,” she sang.
The back of my neck tickled. I turned around, first seeing Dez and the others waiting in the hall. Teller wiped at his face like he was trying to get rid of a stray hair. There was no hair. One of the ghosts was trailing his fingers across his cheek.
Ghosts could be creepy like that.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze above the doors, to the large scoreboard—
Oh God.
They hung from the top of the scoreboard, heads bowed, their arms limp and legs swaying gently. There were a...a dozen of them. Nine dressed in jeans. Three wearing dark blue uniforms.
I stepped back, ignoring the coldness pressing against me. One of them had long brown hair. Wore a white shirt with something blue embossed across the front and jeans. Heart sinking, I looked behind me, finding the pacing man. I swallowed hard.
It was him. One of the missing workers.
“What’s going on?” Dez lingered at the opening.
“I found the missing people.” I cleared my throat. “I’m guessing all of them.”
Dez strode forward, walking straight through an older woman bloated with decay. “What...?” He trailed off, looking up. “Jesus.”
A ghost laughed as another chanted, “Jesus loves me, yes, he does...”
Something fast and pitch-black darted out from the mass of ghosts. A Shadow Person. Dammit. Most ghosts couldn’t do much damage. Wraiths could be a different story, but Shadow People? They could harm and they could kill.
“Watch out!” I shouted, spinning toward the hallway.
“What the—?” Teller’s wings arced behind him as Jordan turned.
Holy crap, they could see the Shadow People, just like demons could.
Teller lifted off the ground, but he wasn’t fast enough. The Shadow slammed into him, knocking him back as it went through him. The Warden fell backward. Lockers rattled as he slid down them, pink mottling his skin as he began to shift into his human form.
“You okay?” Dez shouted.
“Good God,” he gasped, coughing as he maintained hold of his Warden form. “What in the Hell was that?”
“A Shadow Person,” I said, scanning the hall. “It’s gone.” Behind me, one of the ghosts giggled. “I think.”
“I’m fine.” Teller rose to his feet, shaking out his wings. “That was like getting hit by a freight train.” He straightened. “A freight train on fire.”
“At least it didn’t pick you up,” I said, thinking of what one of them had done to Cayman.
“There’s another!” Dez rose into the air. “Coming out the damn wall.”
Spinning toward where he pointed, I caught sight of one peeling its way out of where the wall met the ceiling.
It darted down in a ball, unfurling to its full height halfway to the floor. It landed in the shape of a person, a combination of black smoke and shadow, eyes bloodred, like burning coals.
“I got it.” I stalked forward, summoning my grace. The corners of my vision turned white as the whitish-gold fire spread down my arm, flowing to my hand. The weight of the handle formed against my palm as the blade erupted from sparks and flames.
“That’s also something I’ve never seen before,” Jordan commented from behind.
The SP rushed forward, leaving a stream of black smoke behind it. Stepping into the attack, I sliced through the midsection. The shadow folded into itself, shattering into wisps of smoke.
“They may be strong,” I said, lowering the Sword of Michael. The ghosts gave me wide berth. “But they aren’t the smartest.” I turned back to the others. “There’s got to be more here.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Jordan asked, and Teller nodded. He turned back to us. “They’re dead, aren’t they? The missing people?”
“Yeah,” Dez grunted. “And the cops.”
Pulling my gaze from Teller, I glanced up at the bodies. My stomach twisted. “Why?” My voice was hoarse as I looked at the dead girl.
“Because they hoped you’d come,” she answered in a wispy voice.
Instinct flared to life at the same moment the door that led to the basement and the portal flew open. I had a wicked sense of déjà vu and tensed for LUDs—little ugly demons that resembled foot-tall rats...if rats could run on their hind legs.
That wasn’t what came through the door. In hindsight, I would’ve preferred LUDs.
A burst of bright white light exploded from the door, charging the air with power as it rippled over the ceiling and walls, pouring across the floor. I threw up a hand to shield my eyes, but the intensity was so sudden and extreme it still momentarily blinded me.
Something large crashed into the wall behind me as I lowered my hand. I really hoped it wasn’t Dez. I blinked my vision clear enough to see that the ghosts had scattered to the sides. My grace throbbed in response to the...the heavenly glow.
A huge shape came through the door, and the first thing I saw was the wings—the massive white wings with inky veins streaked throughout.
My heart seized in my chest.
Gabriel.
13
Fear punched a hole through my chest as Gabriel entered the gymnasium, and every instinct demanded that I hightail my butt out of here, but I held my ground—I held on to my grace.
“Trinity,” he spoke, and the sound of him was like rusty nails against my nerves. “I knew you would come.”
Nicolai was going to be so mad when he learned he was right.
This had been a trap.
“Wow,” I said, forcing my voice level. “That was a less than impressive entrance.”
Gabriel stopped, cocking his head to the side. He was closer, his features were clearer to me, and I could also tell that the black in his veins was spreading across the ever-shifting shades of the skin of his neck.
That couldn’t be good.
“What happened to the trumpets and earthquakes? Couldn’t perform?” I asked, tsking. “I hear they make a pill for that.”
His head straightened. “I see you still have no control of your mouth.”
“And I bet you have no idea what I was referencing, which makes my immature snarkiness less entertaining.” The Sword of Michael spit fire as I took a careful step back. I heard no movement behind me, and I knew better than to take my gaze off the Harbinger. I just hoped the Wardens were down but not too badly injured.
“Don’t worry, child of Michael. I always find you entertaining.”
“Happy to hear that.” I willed my heart to slow. I needed to conserve my energy. With no Protector, I would grow tired, slow to move and prone to errors. There was
no set time limit to when that happened, but considering I was still healing, probably not that long.
“I’m sure you are.” He lowered his wings. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised to see you so belligerent. Maybe I just need to break some more of your bones and kill one of those Wardens behind you.”
Potent rage swept through me, and the Sword of Michael flared intensely.
Gabriel laughed as his head fell back. “You’re so angry. I can taste it. Do my words hurt? Is it because I took your Protector? You shouldn’t be angry with me. If God cared, your losses wouldn’t have piled up. You have to want revenge for the deaths of the ones you loved.”
Gabriel had killed Zayne, and he’d been partly responsible for what had happened to Misha and even my mother, and he wanted me to blame God? He was out of his mind, but it also occurred to me that he might not be aware of Zayne’s Fall and subsequent return. That could be beneficial.
If Zayne snapped out of it.
And if I even had a chance to try to bring him back.
“This is not a game, Trueborn. There is nothing you can win. It’s already over. Why make this difficult? You couldn’t save your Protector,” he said, and I flinched. “And no one can save the human race, not when they’re unwilling to save themselves. Their time has come to a close. There’s no stopping it.”
“This conversation again,” I said.
“It’s the truth. All you have to do is step outside to see it. They’ve allowed themselves to become consumed by hate, greed, pride and gluttony. They feed on others’ pain. They’re inherently self-centered. There’s no fixing that, Trueborn. No saving them.”
“You speak as if it’s every person who’s like that, and I’m not going to lie. There’re a lot of crap human beings, but you know what?” I said. “Painting them all with the same brush would be like saying all angels are overgrown toddlers throwing a hissy fit because they’re no longer BFFs with God.”
“BFFs?” he repeated.
“Jesus,” I muttered. “BFFs means best friends forever. Seriously, I ask yet again, how am I supposed to be afraid of you when you don’t even know what that means?”
The tainted grace flared. “But you’re already afraid—afraid of me, of the role you’ve played in the deaths of so many. Terrified because I’m right about them.” He sneered. “The human race no longer deserves any more chances. They are without faith and damned, and God is just as lost as His creations are. Give in to your anger and join me.” Gabriel lifted his hands, palms up. “I will be the father you never had, and with us together, you will have your ruin.”
A laugh burst out of me—a loud, obnoxious and cackling laugh I couldn’t hold back as I stared at him.
Gabriel started to frown.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to be all scary and threatening,” I said. “But all you need to add to that is ‘Luke, I am your father,’ and it would just be perfect.”
“I do not understand.”
“Of course you don’t.” I shook my head. “Is that gross stuff in your wings infecting your brain or something? Because you’re out of your mind.” I clasped the handle of the sword with both hands. “You’re right. I am angry, but I’m not irrational or stupid enough to blame anyone but you. You are the only thing I want revenge against. You may be the source of my rage, but you will not be my ruin.”
His lip curled in a snarl. “That is incredibly disappointing to hear, especially when I’m being so generous by giving you not one but two chances to make this easy on you. I will give you no more.”
Before I could formulate a less than wise response, Gabriel came at me. The only blessing was that he hadn’t summoned his grace.
It was a small blessing.
I swung the Sword of Michael, but he caught both of my wrists in his hands.
“I know someone who is dying to spend time with you.” Gabriel lifted me by the arms, clear off the ground. “Bael will be glad to hear that you’ve been less than willing. He has been so looking forward to getting to know you better.”
Panic threatened to take hold as my feet dangled in the air. Sparks of heavenly fire spit harmlessly in the space between our faces.
“Demons do love to get their mouths and teeth on anything with angelic blood in them.” Thin, inky black wisps seeped across his white eyes. “I only need you alive. I don’t necessarily need you in one piece.”
Pushing down the fear and panic, I tightened the muscles in my legs and stomach. “How would I still be alive if I’m not in one piece?”
“You’d be surprised by what a body will survive,” he growled. “But you will discover such soon enough.”
“Sounds like a great time, but I’m going to have to pass.” I curled my legs up and then kicked out, slamming my feet into his chest.
The blow didn’t hurt him, but it surprised him. He staggered back as I broke his hold. I twisted as I fell, hitting the floor on my poor left hip. Pain flared, but I didn’t give my body a chance to really process it. I kicked out again, aiming for his feet, but he anticipated the move. In my blind spot, he grabbed ahold of my braid, jerking my head back.
“This seems familiar, doesn’t it?” he cooed. “You have to know you can’t beat me. That fighting back is pointless and painful. Why would you even try?”
“I don’t know,” I gasped as he strained the muscles of my neck. “I have a hard head.”
“Thick skull or not, I can still shatter it with my hands alone.”
“Congrats.” I thrust the sword out.
Gabriel spun to the side, but the edge of the sword glided over his thigh, slicing open the white pants and the skin underneath. Black, oily liquid splattered his leg as he sucked in a sharp breath.
My heart lurched as my eyes widened in surprise. I cut him.
Holy shit, I cut him.
My wide gaze swung to his, and I saw the shock on his face. Gabriel was unbelievably fast, but I cut him. Did that mean he was weakening? Maybe there was something to that gunk in his wings and veins—
The blow alongside my cheek stunned me. I toppled over like a pile of bricks. Blood filled my mouth. The Sword of Michael fizzled out in a shower of golden white sparks as my grace retracted. Tiny bursts of black dotted my vision as I rolled onto my back.
“Ouch,” I whispered, blinking away the spots from my vision.
A bare foot was inches from my face.
“Jesus,” I stuttered, throwing myself onto my side.
The floor rattled with the impact of his stomp. I pushed up, unsheathing my daggers. His fingers clamped down on my throat, cutting off my breath as he lifted me off the floor once more. I swung my arms in a wide arc, thrusting both daggers down into Gabriel’s shoulders. The blades cut through muscle and tissue, hitting bone.
He howled in pain. “You stupid—”
A series of pops interrupted him, reminding me of fireworks. Gabriel’s entire body jerked and spasmed. He dropped me, tearing free of my daggers in the process. I landed on my feet, off balance, as Gabriel whirled around. His wings smacked into me, knocking me aside. I fell, gagging as the pops went off again in another rapid succession. I lifted my head.
Captain Washington stood in the doorway, gun leveled on Gabriel. She fired without hesitation, striking the archangel repeatedly in the chest.
Gabriel’s roar shook the floor as hands grabbed my shoulders. I started to swing, but caught sight of reddish-brown hair and horns. Dez. Blood smeared his face. He dragged me aside as I turned to find Gabriel. Bullets wouldn’t take him out, and probably would only irritate him more.
But Gabriel...he was up by the rafters of the gymnasium, where the ghosts were scrambling over one another to get away from him. He flew back, in through the door he’d come out.
He retreated.
I couldn’t believe it as I dragged in deep, uneven breaths.
“Ar
e you okay?” Dez lifted me to my feet, pulling me to his chest. “Trinity?”
I nodded as I looked to where Captain Washington stood. She still held the gun. Behind her, Teller and Jordan were struggling to their feet.
“I think I just shot an actual angel. Multiple times,” Captain Washington said hoarsely. “Does that mean I’m going to Hell?”
“The opposite,” I wheezed. “Believe it or not, it means the opposite.”
* * *
There had been no time to dwell on how close I’d come to getting captured in the aftermath.
The poor captain seemed like she was in a state of shock and finding her officers on the scoreboard didn’t help. I had no idea what Dez told her or how she was going to explain any of this to her department, the public or the families of the workers and officers. I didn’t envy her.
Or Dez.
Nicolai had showed up shortly after we’d exited the school, and the moment he saw me, he looked like he wanted to murder the Warden.
The only good thing that came from the little adventure was the shutdown of any and all work on the renovations and the discovery of Gabriel’s possible weakening. But those two things were overshadowed by the senseless loss of life. There was no reason for those workers or officers to be killed, and that was twelve sets of families and friends who would never be the same.
I’d crashed and burned the moment Dez had dropped me off back at the apartment. I knew the Wardens would be patrolling for Zayne, and would call if they spotted him, but instinct told me they wouldn’t catch one glimpse of him. I slept through the night, slipping into the kind of deep sleep where the horrors of the gymnasium couldn’t follow me. I’d slept well into early Monday afternoon, but I was still moving at the speed of a three-legged turtle when I finally dragged myself out of bed.
Getting ready took an extreme amount of time. My thoughts were consumed with everything from what happened the night before to my plan to see the Crone, and what I’d done with Zayne. Not only that, every muscle in my body was stiff as I pulled on a pair of black pants that were more leggings than they were actual pants, but came with handy back pockets. My back protested as I snatched up a sleeveless tunic that not only looked clean, but also hid the daggers strapped to my thighs. Forgoing the sneakers, I laced up a pair of thick-soled boots that had a lot of traction. I figured I was going to need it.
Grace and Glory Page 13