End of Days: The Complete Trilogy (Books 1-3)

by Meg Collett

  Michaela tensed. The Nephil clutched at her arm. It took Michaela a moment to form the words in her shock. “You’re going to take the seals to Hell? To Lucifer?”

  “No. Not to Lucifer. They will stay with me. Please believe me, Michaela. I will keep them safe.”

  “How can I believe you? What was all this? A trick?” Michaela glanced at the Nephilim around her. No one moved to help her. They didn’t even seem that upset as if they trusted Gabriel with the seals.

  “I didn’t mean it to be one, but you refused to let me help you,” Gabriel said. At that moment, his fallen emerged from the tree line. They hovered in the shadows like the wings at Gabriel’s back. The sounds of the fight were gone. The fallen’s swords weren’t even bloody.

  “How could you do this? Are you truly a fallen now?” Michaela had only thought she knew heartbreak, but as she said those words, she understood the true meaning. It wasn’t a physical pain, but a spiritual disillusion. She felt the most fundamental parts inside her splinter as the ice had, breaking her into meaningless pieces. She could spend her whole life searching for the parts, but she would never be whole again.

  Gabriel only shook his head at her words, his eyes reflecting the pain Michaela felt. She was glad. In her worst moment of pain, she felt solace that he hurt too.

  “I’m taking Clark.”

  Michaela floundered at Gabriel’s words. She hadn’t heard him right. She couldn’t have. Her ears pounded like a million heartbeats. “Wha-What?” she managed.

  “Clark is coming with me. To Hell.”

  Clark’s face went slack. His lips parted only slightly for his shallow breaths. Sky blue eyes met Michaela’s, and they held the slightest ounce of fear. He had no clue what Gabriel was talking about either.

  Michaela couldn’t find the words. Gabriel took her hand, but she yanked it away. She knew the hate and accusation was replacing the shock on her face. She couldn’t believe this was the angel she’d tried so hard to love. She’d thought something was wrong with her because she couldn’t trust him. But Iris was wrong. Sometimes the line dividing enemies was there for a reason.

  “It’s the only way, Michaela. He will be safer there too.” Gabriel pointed at Clark’s arms. “He needs to learn how to use his ability. Until he does, he’s a liability.”

  Clark came to Michaela’s side and slipped his arms around her. She didn’t know if he wanted protection or was saying goodbye. She didn’t look at his face. “How could you do this?” Her voice broke. “How can you say you love me and then betray me?”

  “I do love you,” Gabriel said. His face was anguished, but his grip was solid on the seals. “And that’s why I have to betray you.”

  “That’s a lie.” Michaela tightened her hold on Clark. “Come on, we’re leaving.” She pulled weakly on his arm. Her hair was freezing around her face. The pond’s icy waters replaced the warm blood in her veins.

  “I can’t let you do that.” Gabriel’s fallen closed around Michaela and Clark. Her throat was unbearably tight. She couldn’t breathe. This would kill her.

  “Yes, you will. Take the seals. But you’re not taking him.” Michaela pulled on Clark some more, but his feet weren’t moving. She’d stopped shivering, her body too tired to even try. Her heartbeat was slowing.

  “I’m sorry.” Gabriel motioned to the fallen. They slipped forward and helped pry Clark loose from her hold. But he stepped away from her willingly, his blue eyes breaking. Without support, she sagged to her knees. She couldn’t feel her legs. “I’m so sorry,” Gabriel said again.

  Michaela ignored him. “Clark, run. Just run.”

  Clark only shook his head. “I think I want to go, Michaela. I want to understand what I am.”

  Michaela would not, could not cry. Her eyes were frozen. “Don’t.”

  “I’ll be back soon.” Clark fell into the fold of the fallen. Everyone looked at her like she was the crazy one. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stand.

  “No you won’t. You won’t come back,” she said. Clark’s face crumpled. He turned and left with the fallen angels. She watched as they slowly disappeared back into the woods, going as they’d come. Gabriel followed, stepping backwards, watching her face.

  “Michaela—”

  “Shut up,” Michaela hissed. “There’s no coming back from this. From this moment on, you are nothing but a fallen to me. I hate you. I hate you.”

  Gabriel only nodded. “I understand.”

  As he walked away, the Nephilim came to her once again. She was thankful they didn’t speak. She could barely hold herself together. Above them, the storm was building strength. Michaela didn’t need to look to the sky to know they needed to get to shelter. She felt the air, smelled the fire the clouds held.

  But first they went back into the woods, back into the fight.

  The woods were too quiet, too still below the churning sky. They saw no angels flying below the ominous clouds as they walked between the trunks. Michaela strained to listen for any sound, but she heard nothing. They didn’t have to go much farther into the woods to know.

  Amongst the trees were bodies of countless humans. Lifeless, pale limbs stretched across the ground. Eyes empty and open stared hollowly above. Michaela stopped at the edge of the devastation, her eyes trying to understand the slashes of scarlet across the trees and ground and simple garments of the Amish town folk. The Archangels and some of the Nephilim hurried amongst the dead, quickly searching for pulses. Their empty arms and twisted faces said they’d yet to find any. Raphael looked up, his eyes meeting hers. He trembled, his face crumpled, and he collapsed to the ground. Ophaniel tried to pull him up, but he wouldn’t move.

  “We have to go!”

  The trees swayed as the wind built. From the nearby town, came the sound of tornado sirens. The wailing was eerie as it echoed across the valley.

  “What happened here?” Michaela asked. She couldn’t keep the horror from her voice. A Nephil behind her pulled on her arm.

  “Come on!”

  The Nephilim stopped looking for survivors and ran passed her. Uriel came to Raphael’s side and helped Ophaniel heave him to his feet. Simiel appeared next to Michaela.

  “They were looking for shelter. The holy angels thought they were the Nephilim. They killed them all before we could get here. I don’t think they knew until after, because they went back to Heaven without even pulling a sword on us.” His eyes found Michaela’s beneath the green sky. The sirens continued around them as their hair pressed to the sides of their faces.

  Michaela couldn’t speak. Words failed her. She looked back at the devastation, her mouth gaping open. The pastel colors the Amish children wore were dotted like wildflowers on the ground.

  A noise like a great train started. Simiel dragged her backwards, pulling her into a run. Ophaniel, Uriel, and Raphael flew above them. Their wings whooshed above their heads as they sprinted back to the shelter.

  30

  It didn’t take them long to reach the farmhouse.

  Her body stood in front of the house, watching as it burned to the ground. But Michaela felt as if she were floating somewhere far away. She heard the shouts of the Nephilim as they looked for more survivors. Sophia was amongst them, hurrying from survivor to survivor and marking them with red or blue ink depending on their survival chance. Raphael and Simiel carried the bodies of those fortunate enough to be marked with blue ink past Michaela and into the shelter. She was there physically, but it was the only part of her rooted to the earth.

  She saw Clark leaving and Gabriel’s face and those small children lying in the woods.

  Was the fight even worth the effort if it always broke her heart?

  She was too close to the burning house, but it warmed her frozen body. The heat hurt, like her skin was cracking apart. The pain was welcomed. Slowly she surfaced from the soupy waters of her mind and looked around, truly taking in the scene for the first time.

  Michaela couldn’t tell if the Watchers had set the
blaze or if lightning had, but she knew they hadn’t transported enough supplies for all the injured and the surviving Nephilim.

  Iris.

  The word surfaced in Michaela’s head and flashed like a strobe light. Iris would save her son. She would take Nephilim after the fallen and bring him back.

  If she was still alive.

  She scanned the crowd of Nephilim, but she didn’t see Iris. Slowly, she made her way to the hatch. She pried at the handle, but it was locked.

  “Bang on the door!” Sophia shouted beside her. She supported the weight of an elderly woman who had severe burns on her face.

  Michaela slammed her palm against the metal door repeatedly. She banged until the bones in her arm ached. Finally, the lock released from the inside and the hatch swung open.

  “Go, go!” the shouting came from behind Michaela. The remaining Nephilim were running toward the hatch, yelling for everyone to get inside.

  Michaela saw the reason a second later. Tornadoes twisting and tearing their way toward the house spanned the entire length of the fields. Some were small and barely formed. Others were wide as a house and barreling down on them. Michaela didn’t need to look again. She jumped down the hatch, falling past the stairs, and landing in a crumpled heap on the floor.

  She didn’t wait to see if the others made it down or if the hatch was closed. She took off down the narrow aisles, weaving her way around bodies and stacks of supplies. The ceiling was low and wet. The air was thick in her nose. Sounds seemed to echo in the shallow underground space. Already every instinct in her body was begging her to escape, her mind yelling at her that she was in a casket buried deep in the earth.

  She found Isaac’s room. Within its small space was Iris, sitting at her husband’s bedside. The older woman looked up as Michaela entered. The only sound was Isaac’s weak, wheezing breaths and Michaela’s frantic ones.

  “Clark’s gone! Gabriel took him. We ha-have to go fi-find him!” Michaela was warm enough to shiver again. She didn’t know if it was from the dampness of her jacket and her exposed skin or if she was in shock.

  “Slow down, Michaela. What are you saying?” Iris said. Her voice was calm and serene. The peaceful blue of her eyes was maddening.

  “Gabriel took Clark to Hell! We have to go after them! They have the seals!”

  “You can’t go anywhere dressed like that. You have no clothes on.” Iris’s level gaze and rational words were pissing Michaela off.

  “There’s no time for that! Didn’t you hear me? Clark’s gone!”

  “I know, dear,” Iris said. She smiled, her hand still in her husband’s. “We heard you.”

  “Then why aren’t you doing anything?” Michaela’s body sagged. Her arms drooped at her sides. Even her eyelids felt heavy.

  “What did Gabriel say when he took them?” Isaac asked. His voice trembled. He didn’t look well. But he didn’t look as scared as he should be since his son was just kidnapped.

  Michaela swallowed. She forced her body to breathe normally. “He said it was the only way to protect the seals and Clark.”

  “Do you think he meant it?”

  Iris’s question threw Michaela off. “Wha-What?”

  “Did he mean it when he said he would protect them?” Iris clarified.

  Did he? Michaela wondered. He seemed convinced. But that wasn’t the issue. “He took Clark! To Hell! Doesn’t that…that…alarm you?”

  “Michaela, please sit.” Iris indicated the chair on the other side of Isaac’s bed. “You look exhausted.”

  Michaela found herself slumping into the chair like her body was an anchor. She hadn’t remembered moving. She was certain her brain was telling her body to go back outside and go after Clark, but her limbs weren’t responding. She looked down at her body with numb shock.

  “We trust Gabriel if he said he would protect Clark. We knew something like this would happen,” Iris said. She stroked Isaac’s arm.

  “You saw this in a vision?” Michaela asked. Now that she was sitting, she had to fight the uncontrollable urge to fall asleep.

  “A version of it, yes.” Iris nodded.

  “Why didn’t you warn me?” Michaela meant to shout, but her voice was barely a whisper. Her vision blurred.

  “Because you would’ve found a way to stop Gabriel from taking him.”

  Nothing made sense. Iris’s voice was droning, spiraling in and out of Michaela’s ears. Her head lolled back. “I don’t think it’s right,” she mumbled.

  “I understand that. But everything will be all right.”

  “But,” Michaela began. Her words sounded slurred even to her. “But I was supposed to protect the seals.”

  Iris rose from Isaac’s side. She rounded the edge of the bed carrying a soft quilt. Kneeling in front of Michaela, she tucked the blanket around Michaela’s legs. “Maybe this part isn’t your fight. Maybe you’ve done all that you can do for now.”

  “You think?” Michaela’s eyes wouldn’t stay open. She was sinking into the chair; the ground was taking her into its folds. She was drowning in the earth.

  “Maybe,” Iris said. Just as Michaela’s eyes closed for good, she saw the uncertain look pass between Iris and Isaac.

  31

  The boat rocketed over the putrid, bloodied waves of the ocean. Clark fought to keep from gagging. The smell was awful, and the spray over the front of the boat twisted his stomach when it hit his face. Bodies of all types of fish littered the view. But Clark had already learned not to seek out the source of the nearly continuous thumping beneath the boat. The world was ruined, brought to its knees by plagues. He didn’t need to see what he already knew.

  A fallen angel with long blond hair and broad shoulders navigated the sleek speed boat. The other fallen flew overhead in the dank morning air, their shadows slipping and sliding like black eels over the water and boat. Instead of flying with the other angels, Gabriel sat next to Clark. His eyes were tired, and Clark noticed the Archangel kept raking his hands over his head. He felt like shit, Clark could tell. He deserved it.

  “You don’t like me.”

  Gabriel’s words shocked Clark, because that was exactly what Clark was thinking. He shielded his face with his hand against the wind and looked at the angel. “Uh, excuse me?”

  “I can tell,” Gabriel said. His eyes were on the boat’s floor.

  “Don’t feel too bad.” Clark shrugged. “I don’t like a lot of people.”

  “You like Michaela.” The boat surged forward, the engine revving over Gabriel’s words. The waves were gigantic from the storm farther inland.

  Clark couldn’t tell if Gabriel’s words were merely a statement or a barbed accusation. So Clark only shrugged again.

  “Why did you come out here so willingly?” His black eyes were on Clark now, and his stare made Clark shift uncomfortably. Gabriel’s face was tense, etched with desperate lines. Clark felt like he was being gutted and split open so Gabriel could examine his insides. It was annoying.

  “I wanted a vacation. Dude, what’s up with the questions? I was looking forward to your sullen, quiet nature I heard so much about.” Clark couldn’t help his snapping words. He didn’t even try. He was feeling prickly after this night of hellish proportions. Literally. Clark scowled at his inside joke.

  “She talked about me?” Gabriel asked. His words were quick, anxious. Clark rolled his eyes.

  “Oh, shit.” Clark grumbled under his breath. “Dude, I can’t even handle your love life right now.”

  “I know.” Gabriel sighed and sank back against the bench. The boat ride was wild and rocky, but Gabriel only shifted slightly as they catapulted over the waves.

  “Where are we going?” Clark asked.

  “Hell.”

  Clark grunted. He pressed the heels of his hands against his aching, tired eyes. No wonder Michaela was always so pissed off at Gabriel. “No shit. But why are we going there in a boat?”

  Gabriel stilled. His black eyes found Clark again, making Clark wish
he hadn’t opened his fool mouth. “Do you trust me?”

  The question was ridiculous to Clark. “No,” he said, sounding bitter.

  Gabriel nodded, like he expected the answer. “Because I’m fallen.”

  “Actually, no. Although I get the general sentiment associated with that. But I understand why you had to do what you did.”

  “Then why?” Gabriel asked, clearly confused. He regarded Clark with interest now.

  Clark thought a moment. He wondered how much he should say. How much Gabriel could handle. But thinking before he spoke was never one of Clark’s strong points. “Because it’s entirely too easy for you to break Michaela’s heart.”

  Gabriel was quiet for a long moment, leaving the silence charged with electricity that raised the hairs on Clark’s arm. He realized it probably wasn’t the best thing to say, but he only watched the waves and floating bodies of whales. It made him happy, deliciously happy that his words had stung Gabriel.

  “It was the only way.” Gabriel spoke the words around a clenched jaw. Clark saw the vein in the angel’s forehead pulse once. Good.

  “You’re a liar.” Gabriel tensed at Clark’s words, the dark angel’s eyes narrowing. “It was the easy way. You could’ve convinced her, talked to her about it. She’s not unreasonable if you make her listen long enough.”

  “You don’t know her—”

  Now it was Clark’s turn to get angry. “I do know her.” He bit off the words. “I might even know her better than you do. Because I knew her when she was the weakest, and I knew her when she made the decision to be strong again. That makes you know a person. Where the hell were you? You think you know her. But you don’t know a damned thing.”

  Gabriel leaned back, his face stunned at Clark’s words. “She wouldn’t have understood. She’s fought for too long.”

  Clark shook his head. He shifted away from Gabriel, turning away from him slightly. “See? You underestimate her again. Because she’ll never stop fighting.”

  They rode in silence for a while. Clark zoned out, bracing his body against the bucking boat. He had no clue how much time had passed. The storm seemed to settle, but the sky was dark, pitch black with no light from the dim, veiled sun. He searched the sky, looking for it, but the darkness was too complete. He should’ve seen a sunrise. But the souls hid it. He had no clue how much time had passed since he’d left the farm. He was about to ask Gabriel what was happening when the boat stopped moving.