Grace and Glory

by Armentrout, Jennifer L.

The wall of flames collapsed as Lucifer dropped Bael. “Goodbye, Bael.”

  Zayne threw out his hand, catching me as Gabriel burst out from the smoke, screaming, fiery blade in hand.

  “Jesus.” I skidded to a stop, summoning my grace. It stuttered and then flared hotly. Grace pulsed through me. The Sword of Michael exploded in my hand.

  “Unbelievable!” Gabriel shouted, swinging at Zayne in pure rage. His blow was blocked by Zayne’s sickles. “Do you really think you’ll win if you kill me? Mankind is doomed, anyway—”

  “Can you not shut up?” I said.

  Gabriel drew back, his head shooting toward me. A moment later, a Warden dropped to the ground behind him. It took me a moment to realize who it was.

  Teller.

  And in his hands was an angel blade.

  “Kill them,” Gabriel ordered. “Kill them, but leave the nephilim alive.”

  Two things struck me at once.

  That Teller was answering his demand. He shot forward so fast, swinging out with one angel blade, that none of us immediately responded.

  And I remembered the day in the high school—when the Shadow Person had slammed into Teller, knocking him out. It had gone into him, and it had never come back out.

  I snapped out of it first, flipping the dagger in my hand. Cocking my arm back, I threw the dagger as hard as I could. It struck true, hitting in the base of the skull. Teller went down before he could even reach Zayne.

  There was no time to celebrate that or to find that damn blade in the mist-covered ground. Gabriel came at me.

  I ducked as his fiery blade sliced through the air. Shooting forward, I dipped and twisted, kicking out and catching him at the kneecap. He stumbled, swinging out with his fist as I popped up. There wasn’t enough time for me to avoid the blow completely. I tried, jumping back, but a flare of pain streaked across my stomach. I sucked in a sharp breath, gritting my teeth. “I think it’s time you gave this up. It’s over.”

  “It is?” Gabriel laughed as Lucifer appeared behind the archangel. Gabriel sneered. “You’re already dead.”

  “A bruise,” I said, ignoring the burn traveling up my stomach and along my back. “Can’t say the same for you, though.”

  His brows furrowed as Lucifer saw his opening.

  And took it.

  Lucifer shot forward just as Gabriel spun around. I saw the impact, and almost fell to my knees in relief when Lucifer yanked his bloodied hand back. Even I could see the thumping, fleshy mass in his fist.

  “Now!” Lucifer shouted.

  Zayne swooped in from above and landed, the twin sickle-shaped swords flaming as I shot forward. The Sword of Michael felt heavier than before as I lifted it, the weight not as welcomed. Clasping the handle with both hands, I jabbed out with a shout as Zayne whipped his swords through the air.

  The Sword of Michael pierced Gabriel’s back and cut straight through. The archangel spasmed, arms flinging out. His sword collapsed and he dropped the dagger. A heartbeat later, Zayne’s crescent swords sliced through Gabriel’s neck, severing his head.

  Oh my God.

  My next breath punched out of my lungs as I watched the archangel’s head fall.

  Intense light poured out of the stump that was Gabriel’s neck, so bright that I was blinded until I reached up with one hand, shielding my eyes. Even then, they watered as I watched the funnel of light stream upward. The light...chunks of black swirled inside it. That really didn’t look right. My grace retracted and the Sword of Michael evaporated. Gabriel’s body erupted in flames, leaving nothing behind as the light smashed through the sky, stretching up and up, farther than I knew even Zayne could see. Streaks of midnight oil twisted and pulsed inside the stream of light.

  It was Gabriel’s grace, returning to the source. The next breath I took felt too thin.

  The heavenly fire slammed into something I didn’t think any of us could see. It was like an invisible...force field? That sounded stupid, but it hit something. The whitish-gold fire exploded with a clap of thunder that echoed. The grace rippled outward.

  There it was.

  Unsteady, I staggered back a step. God was doing it. Even though God had sent those angels down to fight off the horde of demons, God had done it. Punted the tainted grace back to Earth. Dizzy with horror, I watched it crawl across the sky in an endless wave stretching as far as I could see.

  How in the world could anyone explain this sight away?

  A hysterical giggle rose up and only by sheer force was I able to stop it as the twisted mass spread. We did it. We stopped Gabriel. We saved Heaven.

  And now a different kind of Hell would reign on Earth.

  I started to turn to Zayne, my body so incredibly weary. Vaguely aware of others approaching us, I heard Zayne inhale sharply.

  “God,” he whispered, staring up at the sky.

  My head jerked upward, and I blinked, because I wasn’t sure if I was seeing what I thought I was or if it was some kind of trick of the imagination.

  The grace had stopped moving.

  “Can you see it?” Zayne asked, moving to my side. “It’s like...it’s frozen.”

  “I can see it.” I didn’t dare take my eyes off it. “What is this, Lucifer?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Or maybe he did and his response was drowned out. The sound reminded me of fireworks sizzling and crackling as they shot into the sky—if there were a thousand of those kinds of fireworks going off at once. It was all I could hear for several moments, and then the mass of tainted grace shattered into millions of sparks of light.

  I jerked, reaching out and grabbing Zayne’s arm. His skin was steady and hot under my hand as my fingers dug in.

  “Trin?” Zayne said.

  Was this it? The end of the world as we knew it came in a beautiful display of golden light? “What?” I asked as the sparks began to drift downward.

  “Your hand.” Zayne turned to me, one of his wings brushing across my arm. He folded his hands around mine. “It feels like a chunk of ice.”

  How my hand felt didn’t seem like a huge priority at the moment. Vaguely aware of him rubbing my fingers between his, I struggled to remain standing under the weight of what we were watching. The shining filaments were beautiful, reminding me of fireflies, but the moment they landed—the moment a human was touched by one of them, they’d be corrupted by what was inside Gabriel.

  “Your hand isn’t warming.” Zayne slid his palm over my arm. “Your arm—”

  “God did it,” Lucifer said, voice ringing with shock. “God actually did it. Look.” Lucifer reached out as one of the flakes, mostly white now, drifted toward us. “It’s...is this snow?”

  I started to ask him how he didn’t know what snow looked like, but then realized that he’d been in Hell for...what? Thousands of years? I doubted it snowed in Hell. Or that he could remember what snow looked like.

  “It is...snow.” Zayne’s hands were still on my arm. “Look, Trin. It’s snow.”

  Pulling my gaze from the flurry, I looked down to my arm, to his hands. Little white flakes landed on his skin, evaporating on touch and leaving a glistening speck behind. “Is it contaminated?”

  “It doesn’t feel evil.” Those ultrabright eyes met mine. “Does it feel evil to you?”

  I shook my head as the snow continued to land on my arms. “It feels like snow.”

  “It’s not evil,” Lucifer said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “I know evil. It’s snow and it’s...” He groaned in disgust. “Aw, dammit.”

  “What?” My heart skipped a beat as I looked over to him.

  He stood with his hands on his hips. “It’s not contaminated.”

  “Why do you sound like that’s a bad thing?” Zayne demanded.

  Better yet, why did Zayne suddenly sound as if he were standing in a tunnel even thou
gh he was standing beside me? I looked over at him. His features were fuzzy—well, fuzzier than normal, and I...

  “It’s full of goodness,” Lucifer spat. “It’s pure, and it’s getting all over me. I’m going to need to shower this crap off.”

  That was good... That was beyond good and beyond what any of us had been too afraid to hope for. God stepped up. He or She or Whatever stepped up. Tears filled my eyes, but I...

  “I bet you’re up there laughing, aren’t you?” Lucifer shouted. “Dusting me with the equivalent of a heavenly glitter bomb? Really?”

  I stared at the snow as it gathered on my arm. It didn’t melt.

  “After all I’ve done for you, this is how You repay me?” Lucifer continued to rage. “I’m going to have to take five showers and I know I won’t be able to get the stench of humanity and goodness off me.”

  Zayne twisted toward me, a laugh in his voice as he said, “We did it, Trin.”

  We had, but...

  I tried to swallow, but my throat felt weird, like it was narrowing. “I don’t feel right.”

  The sound of Zayne’s wings snapping back ended in his shout. I didn’t know why he yelled my name, but then I was suddenly in his arms and he was above me, his face going in and out focus.

  “Trin! What is it?” Zayne wasn’t waiting for my answer. His hand swept over my chest and down my stomach. He halted and then yanked up my shirt, swearing. “You’re wounded.”

  “It’s just...a punch.”

  Zayne’s hand trembled against my stomach as he cranked his head around. “Lucifer! Stop your bitching and get over here!”

  “What?” I asked, or I thought I did. I wasn’t sure as I struggled to lift my hand long enough to look down. I saw my stomach, but it looked weird. Like the skin was...like it was turning gray and spreading.

  “What is this?” Zayne demanded. “What is happening?”

  The blurred face of Lucifer appeared above one of Zayne’s wings. His head tilted and then he whipped around, disappearing out of sight.

  And my...my head felt too heavy. It fell back, and I was staring beyond Zayne and the tips of his beautiful wings, to the snow that continued to fall. A numbness settled into me. A bone-deep knowing.

  “What are you doing?” Zayne yelled at him as he turned me slightly to the side. “Lucifer!”

  “I’m looking for—found them.” There was a pause. “Damn.”

  “Damn? Damn what?” Panic crept into Zayne’s voice.

  Lucifer’s voice was closer. “Were you stabbed with this? With one of these angel blades?” he demanded.

  A faint golden glow reflected from the spike he held in his hand. “Teller had it,” I forced out. “And Gabriel...he only punched me.”

  “That Warden must’ve given one to Gabriel, or he always had one,” Lucifer said. “He didn’t punch you. He nicked you with one of these.”

  “That...” Zayne trailed off, and then his wings flared out. “No. No.” He twisted toward me, the arm around me tightening. “Trin. You’re going to be fine.”

  “What happened?” Layla gasped.

  “She’s fine. I’m going to make sure of it,” Zayne said. “You’re okay. I just need to find—”

  “There’s nothing to be found,” Lucifer cut him off. “There’s nothing to be done.”

  “There has to be,” snapped Roth, and I was glad to hear that the stupid demon prince and Layla were okay.

  “It’s an angel blade,” Lucifer argued. “It’s—”

  “Don’t say it,” Zayne growled. “Don’t you fucking say it.”

  Lucifer fell silent, but he didn’t need to say what I already knew, what I felt in the sluggish beats of my heart. What had Roth said? Angel blades were deadly. They could kill anything, including another angel.

  Including a Trueborn.

  We knew this.

  “You’re going to be okay.” Zayne cupped my cheek. I was aware of his hand there, but I couldn’t feel it. “You have to be. Okay? I just need you to hang in there. For me. Do you hear me, Trin? I just need you to hold out and I’ll figure out a way.”

  You’re already dead.

  That’s what Gabriel had said after he punched me. Except it hadn’t been a punch. He’d known. He’d known then he was going to lose, and he...

  And he took me out with him.

  That bastard.

  I’d been willing to die to stop him. That’s what I planned before the angels arrived, but now, after winning? I wasn’t ready.

  But I knew it was too late. Everything in me felt like it was...like it was giving up, shutting down and closing up shop.

  I was dying, and I’d always thought dying would be painful, but this was...it was like falling asleep. My eyes fluttered.

  “No!” Zayne shook me, startling me. “Don’t close your eyes. Don’t go to sleep. Look at me. Trinity, please. Look at me. Keep your eyes open. Trin, look at me.”

  I looked at him. I blinked until his features came into painful focus, and I soaked in every line of his face, every plane and angle. Would I see him again? Panic exploded like a buckshot, but it was too late. “I... I love you.” I forced the words out, each one a labor. “I love you.”

  “I know. I know you do, Trin, and you know that I love you. I’m going to spend eternity telling you that. You’ll get tired of hearing it.” His voice cracked. “I promise you that. You’re not going to leave me. I refuse to let that happen.”

  But I was, and I couldn’t feel his arms around me. A heartbeat later, I couldn’t see him. Panic gave way to terror. “Where are you?”

  “I’m right here, Trin. I got you. I’m right here. I have you.”

  He did. He had me. I wasn’t alone. Some of the fear eased off. “Don’t let...go of me.”

  “Never,” he swore.

  “Please.”

  “Always.” He sounded so very far away.

  I felt my chest rise, but there was no air. There was no sound. There was no light.

  There was just nothing.

  And I fell into it.

  Gone.

  34

  “Trinnie, wake up.”

  I turned my head from the voice, wanting to return to the dream. Or at least I thought I was dreaming, because I’d been in Zayne’s arms and he’d been so warm as he held me close to him. And that had to be a dream, because we’d been fighting Gabriel. Lucifer had killed him, and God... God had done something glorious, and I...

  “Trinnie,” came the voice again. One I realized I recognized. “I’m staring at you. Watching you.”

  Peanut.

  What did I tell him about watching me while I slept?

  But that didn’t make sense. Peanut hadn’t been there, and I couldn’t be asleep. Not technically. Maybe figuratively. Semantics didn’t really matter right now.

  I died.

  I freaking died.

  Anger pounded through my body. That bastard, psychotic archangel had actually managed to kill me. I was dead and Zayne was alive—oh my God, Zayne. Pressure clamped down on my chest, strangling me. He’d been there, holding me so I wasn’t alone, and now he was there and I was...well, I was wherever I was. I was dead.

  “Trinity!” Peanut shouted.

  My eyes flew open, and a strangled gasp left me. Peanut’s freaking transparent face was right there, mere inches from mine.

  “What the Hell?” I exclaimed, starting to sit up. I pushed my hands down, planting them in...in something soft and dry. Not damp grass.

  I blinked several times as Peanut drifted out of the line of my sight. Confusion swirled through me as I realized I was staring up at the muted glow of the Constellation of Zayne.

  I was lying in our bed.

  The corners of my lips turned down. “Peanut?” I said hoarsely.

  “Yes,” he answered from wherever
he was.

  “Am I in our apartment?”

  “You are.”

  What in the what?

  Sitting up, I looked around our bedroom. Peanut hovered to the left, in midair, his legs crossed. To the right of me, the bedside lamp was on. The worn, tattered copy of my mother’s favorite book sat on the nightstand. I reached over, running my fingers over the soft cover. Was I...was I a ghost? Was that why I was here? That sort of made sense. I sure as Hell wasn’t ready to move on, and the recently...departed often returned to places they were comfortable. My heart skipped in my chest—

  Wait.

  I pressed the same hand against my chest, feeling my heart beat unsteadily. If I died and was now a ghost, would I feel my heartbeat? Would I be able to feel anything?

  My head swung toward Peanut.

  He waved at me.

  “I can feel the bed. I felt the book,” I told him, and then thumped my hand off my chest. I winced. That hurt my boob—that actually hurt. Ghosts felt pain? Oh God, if so, how in the Hell did Peanut let himself float through ceiling fans and stuff? “I can feel my heart.”

  His brows lifted. “I would hope so.”

  I stared at him. “Can you feel your heart?”

  “That’s a stupid question.”

  “How is that a stupid question?” I demanded. “I’m dead. I died, Peanut. I’m superdead, and if I’m a ghost, how can I feel my—”

  “You’re not a ghost,” he cut me off. “You’re not dead.”

  I stared at him.

  He stared back at me.

  I stared at him some more. Probably for a good full minute before I could even process what he’d just said, and even then, I didn’t understand. At all. “How?” I whispered. “How am I not dead?” I looked around the room again, just to make sure it was still the bedroom. It was. “How am I here?”

  “Well, it’s kind of a convoluted story,” he said.

  I scrambled to my knees. “Try to make sense of the story, then.” Zayne’s face suddenly filled my mind, and I started for the edge of the bed. “You know what. It doesn’t matter. I need to find Zayne. He has to be—”

  “Beside himself?” Peanut suggested. “His heart so broken that he demanded that Lucifer bring you back?”