by Nikki Kelly
A Pureblood at my back, I willed my light, and the Pureblood retracted an inch from my neck. His hissing spit sprayed against my skin before he took off.
The garden and the graveyard provided the setting for the spreading massacre. I picked out Phelan. He was deploying more of his men from behind the church in an attempt to flank the Second Generation Vampires, but there were too many of them.
Nearby Fergal was struggling to fend off a demon, but then Iona popped up out of nowhere and plunged a silver dagger in between the creature’s shoulder blades.
The Purebloods filed out behind Zherneboh. As if they were royalty, the sea of soldiers parted, making way for their masters who glided along the aurora’s red carpet. But down by my feet one Pureblood still remained, clutching his chest. He was the first that my gray smoke had invaded. Though the smoke had evaporated, for him, it did so too late. His insides were at war as he flashed from the image of who he was now to who he had been once upon a time.
It didn’t take him long to burn.
As the Pureblood’s ashes swirled and scattered, through the last of the flaming embers, Malachi appeared at my side. The scene around me was far worse than anything I could have created in my own imagination. Phelan was right. This was the apocalypse, and the Devil was winning.
I couldn’t hear Malachi over the wounded’s screams as the chaos unfolded. But then, climbing up and over the edge of the garden, which overhung the river below, Malachi’s fallen Angels appeared. Fair-haired, with blue eyes and pale skin, they were unlike anything I had seen before. Their bare legs had a blue-green shimmer to them, and they weren’t carrying any weapons. But then they began to hum harmoniously with one another, and I realized their weapon was within them.
The hymn was entrancing, and every single being, whether human or demon, halted. The fallen Angels formed lines, and they marched forward in rows of thirty as they switched up an octave. The change in note released Phelan and his men from the hypnotic sound, but continued to keep the Vampires caught within it. They couldn’t take their eyes from the blond-haired beauties.
The male fallen Angels were naked save for a sliver of thin material strewn around their waists, held together by gold-and-crystal leaf pins, each one distinct and unique. The women wore the pins as charms hanging low on their necklaces, as earrings, or as hairpieces. They glowed in sync, flashing in a form of Morse code as the Angels came to a stop at the center of the garden. The fallen Angels’ song grew louder, and Malachi flagged down Phelan, who pointed his arsenal toward the stationary Second Generation Vampires. The Vampire hunters with guns fired; the ones who favored blades cast from silver held them at the ready.
Zherneboh wavered, but only briefly. The song’s effect on him had lasted only a few moments, and he left his dazed Purebloods behind. Dragging Orifiel with him, he passed through the trees separating the garden from the hilltop, and I knew where he was going. He was headed for the fixed gateway to the third, but he didn’t intend to simply kill Orifiel. No, that would be too kind. Zherneboh was instead about to bestow the same fate his brother had afforded him. If he succeeded, if his revenge against Orifiel was satisfied, what would he do, now that Styclar-Plena was destroyed? I didn’t want to think about that too hard. I had to end him, and I had to do it now.
I rocked back on my heels and raced forward. As I swerved around the Sealgaire’s bullets, a fallen Angel in the choir caught my attention; she was the only one not staring straight ahead. It was my mother, and as she had done throughout my entire existence, from afar she was watching my every move. The glow from the crystal hairpin of the fallen Angel to her right glinted, causing me to squint, and I recognized the ornate jewel.
“The hairpin,” I said. It was the one I had borrowed along with Iona’s clothing, the one Gabriel had returned to its “rightful owner”—and that rightful owner was a fallen Angel: Iona’s mother.
She was still alive.
Iona was out in front, and I called her name. Her eyes met mine, and I turned my head, directing her toward the fallen Angels. I knew she’d seen her mother when her plump bottom lip hung low. And as she stumbled forward, a hand grabbed her wrist, a hand that belonged to Gabriel.
He saw me then. “Lailah.”
Behind Gabriel, an archer laid down his bow and arrow at the sound of my name. It was Jonah. Brooke appeared next, ramming a knife below the ribs of a motionless Vampire to the right of Jonah.
My family.
They were all here.
Up ahead, Zherneboh was fast approaching the tomb that had concealed and contained the fixed gateway to the third. With the land pulled apart, the gateway was visible, dripping with black ink. A person was trying to get near it. Though he had his back to me, I recognized the retro glasses on top of his head.
What the hell was Darwin doing?
I kicked into a higher gear, but as I passed what I had thought to be Second Generation Vampires, I did a double take. Captivated by the fallen Angels’ song, they were unmoving as the Sealgaire soldiers slayed them. But some of the faces were warming now with rosy cheeks; some of them were once again becoming human.
As I sped by them, the Purebloods were coming out of their trance, and they roared, clashing with the fallen Angels. The hypnotic hymn was interrupted. The Sealgaire waded through the mix of Second Generation Vampires and renewed humans in a bid to help defend the Angels against the Purebloods.
I reached Zherneboh, who had Orifiel slung over his back. The Arch Angel’s expression was desperate, and it was agonized. But I knew that, for him, the physical pain he was experiencing now was still preferable to slipping into the void of the third and transforming into the creature Eden had become.
Zherneboh knew I was behind him, but he remained focused on his task. He emitted a supersonic squawk and from within Pandora’s box the last reserve of his Second Generation Vampires leaped out. They paid no attention to Darwin, who was shaking as he tried to unpack his equipment beside the diminishing fixed gateway to the third. Instead, they darted toward me.
Instinctively, I jumped high in the air, managing to snatch a Vampire on my way back down. I grabbed the short and stocky demon by the arm and threw him as though performing a shot put. As he sailed and then collided with the border of trees, I caught sight of Gabriel and Jonah pushing through the shrubbery, making their way to me. Following Gabriel, Iona wasn’t far behind. I cursed under my breath, conflicted. I was angry that they were here risking their lives, and yet the sight of their faces made me more determined.
I fought off the Second Generation Vampires as I pushed forward. Zherneboh was still ahead of me, arriving at the ledge of the broken tomb a second before me. He dropped down inside, and I came just shy of grasping Orifiel’s robes.
Directly to my left, a demon darted, but with my impaired vision, I didn’t see him in time. He knocked me down and yanked me back.
Clinging to the ledge of the tomb, I kicked the demon away. I tightened my grip around the edge of the rock, and using it as leverage, I catapulted my weight forward. Transitioning from a handstand, I propelled myself into a flip, landing on my tiptoes directly in front of Zherneboh. I stood between him and the shrinking gateway.
I expected to find Darwin, as this was where I had seen him last, but he was gone. The only sign he had even been here was the case that had contained his crystal syringes, which was lying empty beside the rift. My heart almost stopped with the thought that his attempt to withdraw dark matter from the gateway might have caused him to be sucked into the third.
Zherneboh was faster than me; as I willed my gray smoke, he howled, and swiping with his talons, he struck me through the shoulder. My smoke stalled, and a moan escaped my lips as I hit the cold, hard ground. As I lay on my side, I began to shiver, while Zherneboh swung his adversary in the direction of the black rippling gateway.
Held suspended by Zherneboh, Orifiel hung limply and he met my eye. There was nothing left for him to do now but accept his fate. In a last broken breath, again
he repeated my words back to me, as if confirming that I had fulfilled the promise I had once made him. “No mercy.”
And as his light rose to the surface of his skin, as it electrified down his form, burning him from the inside out, my words took on a whole new form. Suddenly they meant something entirely different than they had before.
They were not the words of a Savior or of a hero.
They made me the villain.
As my skin stitched back together, once again I willed my gray smoke. Orifiel’s wails quieted, his body smoldering as Zherneboh allowed the gateway to gradually pull the Arch Angel through. Orifiel’s head and shoulders disappeared first, and his robes turned from white, to gray, to coal black, and then he was swallowed whole.
The gateway swelled, and then along with Orifiel, it disappeared.
The fixed gateway was sealed. No matter what form Orifiel took, on the other side, he would be trapped in the darkness, and Zherneboh was towering before me free as a raven. He had spent his entire existence seeking his vengeance, but I could tell from the way his top lip quivered, rising up over his fang in a dissatisfied snarl, that it was a hollow victory.
Revenge didn’t equal restitution.
Still on the ground, in my palms my gray smoke manifested, and I expelled it forcefully.
Zherneboh reacted immediately.
His cloak, now soaking wet from the rain, lifted as he spun on the spot. Zherneboh became a dark blur as he twisted like a hurricane, and my smoke stuck to his cloak, not even getting close to his skin. It was as though he were swinging a wet towel in a room filled with smoke as he cleared it away effortlessly.
He pulled the last plume into his makeshift shield.
The hurricane in front of me subsided as Zherneboh came to a halt.
I lay exhausted on the ground.
I stared into the soaking puddles of what remained of his dark orbs. I blinked trying to escape the sight, and an image flashed in a single still frame. It was a screen shot of the future, of a world where Zherneboh roamed free.
A world that burned.
I was overcome with fear, an emotion a creature such as Zherneboh had no comprehension of, for it was entirely human.
My blood ran cold.
Zherneboh’s fangs cracked, and he scooped me from the ground, raising his clawed hand and curving his body over mine. Déjà vu hit; I recalled the frozen Pureblood in the third. Time stalled, affording me the opportunity to marry the feeling with the sight. I knew how to defeat Zherneboh.
With a short, sharp breath, I plunged my thumbs into the darkness of his eye sockets. With my fingers pressing against his temples, I transferred my freezing temperature, and in the same way I had turned the river in Styclar-Plena to ice, so too did I freeze Zherneboh’s soul.
The hot dark matter that circulated through his form plummeted, transitioning from a liquid to a solid. Zherneboh swayed erratically, and his skin bulged, reddening and then purpling under my touch. He tried to shake me off but his limbs were too stiff.
His jaw unhinged, but his shriek was trapped in his throat, his lizardlike tongue freezing before it could escape. His huge and heinous body became cemented where he stood, and only when my fingertips burned, sticking to the dry ice of his skin, did I recoil.
Zherneboh’s head twitched twice, and then he became a statue.
I stared blankly at his face, and I was able to see beneath the demon, to the Angel trapped inside. I moved to his ear. “Go now, Eden.” The orange mist of the aurora fogged at our feet, rising around the two of us, and as I twisted the once Arch Angel’s neck, his body cracked. He shattered to infinity, leaving this world twinkling like stardust.
I exhaled.
No more rocks.
No more rivers.
No more revenge.
TWENTY-SIX
I EMERGED FROM THE CRATER IN THE GROUND. As the mist dispersed, the rounds of shots being fired ceased, and as I looked down to the garden, the Purebloods who were tangled between the Sealgaire and the fallen Angels were dying.
Some of the Pureblood masters cracked like porcelain and shattered on the spot. Others ignited and then, flashing with white flame, melted into great big puddles. It was as if we’d struck oil as the Purebloods’ remains spewed everywhere, painting the red and white roses that bordered the garden black.
The fallen Angels’ hymn had stopped completely, and now able to move, the Second Generation Vampires that remained were tripping over themselves. The fallen Angels disbanded, diving from the garden’s edge into the river below. Reemerging, they bobbed up and down, their legs, which had glistened with a blue-green shimmer, transformed into fins. Over the thousands of years spent hiding from Zherneboh and his Purebloods in Earth’s waters, the fallen Angels had evolved into sea creatures mankind had been telling stories about for centuries—mermaids.
My attention veered as behind the oak tree Iona’s scream pierced the air. I raced over to where Gabriel, Iona, and Jonah were all engaged in combat against the last of the Second Generation Vampires that Zherneboh’s shriek had released.
Though Jonah was mortal, he still wore his trademark arrogant smirk as he fought off the demon circling him, only now he had learned how to handle a silver weapon. With a crossbow slung over his shoulder, he swiped a silver blade as though he was an expert in the art of demon slaying. I wondered if it had been Phelan who had taught him to wield his weapons; if in the year I had been gone, the two had buried the hatchet and become friends as well as allies.
As the demon attacking Gabriel brought him down, I recognized the black gloves of the Vampire who had repeatedly gunned for my Angel’s life—Hanora’s mate.
Jonah was to my right. Gabriel was to my left. Both in combat. Both of whom I could help. But I could only help one. I had to choose.
I sensed Gabriel’s more immediate danger and headed for him just as, from the corner of my eye, I saw the Vampire that Jonah was fighting launch itself to his shoulders and press its hands around Jonah’s neck.
I heard him choke, and instincts took over.
I plowed into the Vampire with such force that as he met the ground he broke through it as if he were a meteor striking the Earth.
On my left, Iona was lunging toward the Vampire attacking Gabriel, thrusting a sharpened stake forward. With one hand at Gabriel’s collar, the Vampire anticipated her run, stretching and sweeping her legs out from under her before she could get near enough to do any damage. Iona landed with a thud, and Gabriel shouted her name as she rolled onto her back, blood pooling from behind her ear.
Jonah hunched over, hands on his knees, as he gasped for air. But when he looked up, I was already gone, charging back toward Gabriel.
The Vampire got hold of the stake before Gabriel could reach for it, and with nothing but murder on his mind, he didn’t care that I was rocketing toward him. He rammed the stake into Gabriel’s chest, and blood spurted from my Angel’s lips as his body convulsed.
I think I screamed.
I landed on top of the Vampire and he spat at me as my fingers tightened around his throat. But as I squeezed, his skin warmed against mine, and I knew what was happening. Right then I couldn’t have wanted anything less, because I couldn’t have wanted anything more than to watch him die slowly.
It was as though my insides hollowed out, and the emptiness was growing, providing me with a dark place in which to hide from what I was about to do.
Why should he get to live when Gabriel would not?
My hesitation allowed the Vampire to blink away his red flaming eyes, and they simmered into a glowing green.
I wept angry, hateful tears as the Vampire below me became human once more. The black spots of my irises expanded, swelling so that the darkness was all I could see, but I could still feel his pulse held within my hand.
I wailed, and then I let him go.
I matched my breaths to the shallow, difficult ones Gabriel was fighting to take.
I didn’t want to turn around.
&nb
sp; I didn’t want him to die.
But I did, because he would.
I stopped in my tracks. Iona had crawled to Gabriel’s side, and leaning over his chest, she pleaded with him to stay. Gabriel brought his hand up, but then his eyes met mine over her shoulder, and he hesitated in placing his palm to her cheek.
Gabriel’s gaze on mine, his final breath was taken in a whisper.
His arm became limp, but Iona caught his hand as it fell.
Where Gabriel lay, the fallen leaves lifted and then twirled on the breeze, scattering into the fading orange hue of the aurora.
My legs could barely hold me up as I passed by Jonah. Staggering over to the cliff’s edge, I stared down at the river.
It was so quiet.
It was so still.
Iona stopped sobbing and she began to sing. I knew what she was doing then. She was trying to reach out to Gabriel, to the one she loved and had just lost.
I recognized the refrain. It was the melody to the song Gabriel and I had once shared—a song that had connected him to me.
Though the lyrics that left Iona’s lips were to “Danny Boy” and had been rewritten for the modern day, the song was one and the same—a song that connected her to the ones she loved the most.
Gabriel believed in meant-to-be, and I had told him to stop looking for signs and start listening instead. And wherever Gabriel was, finally, he heard her.
Iona lifted her face from Gabriel’s chest. Around her neck was my crystal, still set in the ring Gabriel had given me. Dangling low on the chain, it began to glow. Tiny, twinkling stars exuded, drifting toward Gabriel’s nose and mouth. Merging with the twirl of the luminous ribbons of the fading aurora, the glittering crystals wrapped around Gabriel, repackaging my Angel and gifting him to Iona.
His faded blue eyes renewed back to his bright sapphires, and a gleam shone over them as if they were being polished. And though I was looking to him, he chose to look to Iona instead.