by Amy Braun
But Dro wouldn’t just be missing from the picture. She would be the one burning it.
Deep down, I knew I couldn’t stand back and watch the destruction Lucifer would create. I had started this when I hadn’t protected Dro from the ritual that summoned Lucifer. I’d made too many mistakes. I was suffering from them now, but I had to make it all right before I died. And now I knew that I would die. When I met with Lucifer, Mateo, Drake, and Dro again, it would be for the last time. Three of them hated me, and one of them had been turned against me. They wouldn’t let me walk away again. One of them would kill me.
I didn’t really want to die. Missing out on a life with Warrick and seeing Max and Sephiel find peace were huge sacrifices I didn’t want to make. But as much as I tried to admit that I could let Dro stay on her dark path, I knew I would never leave her to that fate. Not when I remembered every time she told me how she wanted to live a normal life. Not when I’d seen how happy and in love she was with Max. Not when I knew she was tired of being hunted and being hated for what she was. Not when I knew her smile was the biggest when she was listening to bad jokes or wandering in forests or helping someone or trying out a new style for her hair.
I’d seen the person Dro really wanted to be. That young woman had surrendered to a demon. She deserved to be free.
That was something I was ready to die for.
Muffled shouts skirted into my grim, resolved thoughts. I caught Sephiel’s voice and another woman’s, but it didn’t sound like Maria. My body protested stiffly as I got to my feet and turned around. I took a deep breath and wiped my cheeks. I hadn’t expected them to be as wet as they were.
I hated surprises.
I unlocked the door and walked out of the backroom. To my complete un-surprise, Warrick had been sitting on the floor by the door. He drew himself up quickly, trying to catch my eyes. I shook my head, signaling him that we would talk later. It wasn’t going to be a talk we’d enjoy, even though I would be lying through half of it.
“It is pointless, Sephiel!” the female angel cried. I pushed back the curtain and went back into the front of the store. Max was standing by the curtain, his arms wrapped around his middle, his face a sad mix of heartache and worry. I saw it from the corner of my eye, because I wasn’t strong enough to look in his face yet.
In front of me, the two angels stood by the door. Michael was still lying on the floor, hands pressed to his chest but breathing deeply from sleep. Sephiel stood next to him, hands open in a pleading gesture.
“We knew this would be a challenge for our kind,” he reasoned. “But it is not impossible to defeat Lucifer. Only two fragments remain, both in mortal bodies that have likely fused with their bloodstream. As long as he has one, his power remains insurmountable. If those bodies are destroyed, the Hell Gate can be closed. Lucifer can still be defeated.”
“Did you not see the forces Lucifer called with a crook of his finger?” exclaimed the male angel. “Who knows how many more Knights he can bring forth in the next battle! We cannot defeat them as we are, Sephiel. We are human now. We are as breakable as glass.”
That stung, mostly since I was crushingly aware of how right he was.
“Humans have done the impossible before,” Sephiel insisted. He looked over his shoulder, pointed, and made me wish I had stayed in the backroom. “Constance has been fighting demons since she was a child. She helped keep the demons out of Heaven. She resisted the fragment. She has continually stood up to Lucifer. She thought quickly and saved Michael’s life.” He stopped pointing at me, but I still felt liable for anything Sephiel said.
“Humans have always been stronger than we gave them credit for. This city has fallen, but we have not. Maybe it is too late to save the souls residing here, but we can cease Lucifer’s corruption from spreading.” He took a step closer to the two angels. “This is what we were trained for. Defending those who could not defend themselves. Keeping the fiends of Hell locked in their fiery prison. None of that should change now that we are mortal.”
Sephiel stood as straight as he could, looking taller and more confident.
“I am staying. Michael shall be staying. What shall you do?”
His speech had been strong. Uplifting. I would have listened to him with rapt attention and followed him through the Gates myself.
But I had been born a human. I hadn’t been diminished into a fraction of what I used to be. At least not physically.
The male angel gave Sephiel a sympathetic look. The woman seemed resolved.
“We shall leave,” she said. “And we shall live.”
When they turned and walked out of the door, no one stopped them. The door slammed closed with a terminal bang. All the height and certainty Sephiel had fell off him. His shoulders slumped, his head dropped to his chest, and he let out a weary sigh. He turned toward us, and this time I was certain I could see new grey streaks in his dark red hair. His steps were heavy and slow as he crossed the room.
“It appears that the term ‘Heaven help us,’ does not apply to our situation,” he said dejectedly.
“You did what you could, Seph,” Warrick said from behind me. He was close enough that I could feel traces of his body heat against my back. “This isn’t the first time the odds have been against us.”
I loved Warrick for his optimism, but we all knew it was a lie. Things had never been worse for us than they were now.
“But she left,” Max whispered. We all turned to look at him.
Max had always looked young, but right then he resembled a lost child. It was the same look he’d had when he saw a specter of his father, only to realize that it was a cruel magic trick. He wasn’t looking at us, but I could tell he was on the verge of tears.
“She didn’t even see me, she…”
Max looked up, the pain in his glistening eyes breaking my heart.
“She’s not coming back, is she?”
Hearing the hope in his voice was the worst part. He could see flickers of the future, but he wanted me to lie for him. He wanted to know that Dro would come back, and that we’d find a way to repair everything we’d damaged.
But I couldn’t do that to him. Not when I knew the truth as well as he did.
Warrick left my side and put his hands on Max’s shoulders.
“We’ll find her, Max,” he told the boy, repeating words I’d once said with sureness. “Lucifer is confusing her, that’s all. We can get through this.”
He looked at me as he said the last part, trying to get me to believe him. It didn’t work.
“Look, there’s nothing more we can do tonight. We need to wait until Michael wakes up before we can make a plan. We should find some food and get some rest. Start over with clear minds.”
Max nodded gloomily, drawing back from Warrick’s hands. He trudged past the curtains and out of sight.
“Lucifer’s hold on Andromeda is strong,” Sephiel said once Max was out of hearing range. “It will not be easy to retrieve her from under his spell.”
“Nothing’s impossible,” Warrick insisted. “Just like you told the angels. You aren’t wrong, Seph. They just chose to ignore you.”
Sephiel set his jaw and nodded grimly. He glanced at me, but I was more interested in the floor.
“Would you like me to take first watch?” Sephiel asked, glancing at us.
“No, I’ll do it,” Warrick answered. “I’m still pretty wired.”
The ex-angel nodded, then slid past me. Once his footsteps turned soft and distant, Warrick put his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. I was too drained to resist, and even under the sour odors of blood, sulfur, and sweat, he smelled safe and comfortable. He smelled like the home I was giving up.
I put my arms around his waist, hugging him tight to me. I wanted to be near him for as long as I could. I was going to lose him soon.
Warrick didn’t ask me if I was okay. He didn’t try to offer advice or hope or even kiss me. He just stood there, making me feel warm and loved. He started moving
his hands through my hair, nearly bringing me to tears.
“I’m sorry about Carver,” I got out through a choked voice.
Warrick’s motions slowed. He sighed heavily over top of my head.
“Me too,” he admitted. “But he made his choice. Nobody could have talked him out of what he thought was right, no matter how big a mistake he was making.” He stifled a laugh. “You know, I argued with him more often than not, never really saw things the way he did, but I kind of miss the bastard. Even when he was being a hard-ass, I knew I could always come to him for advice or knowledge or whatever. It’s going to be strange, being the last demon slayer in the country.”
I had completely forgotten that all of the demonic assaults and possessions were now on Warrick’s shoulders. If we succeeded in closing the Hell Gate, he was the one who’d have to clean up the mess. And it was going to be a huge mess.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into his chest, closing my eyes.
Warrick’s hand rested on the back of my neck. “Don’t be. I was kind of hoping to get a new partner.”
I opened my eyes and pulled back to look at him. Warrick gazed down at me with hope and a small smile on his lips, truly believing that we’d survive and I would fight off the remaining demons with him.
I was a terrible influence.
“I don’t know what to do,” I breathed shakily.
Warrick’s hands cupped the sides of my face. “Who the hell does? But you’ll figure it out. You always do. It’s part of the reason I love you so damn much.”
He said the right thing, the most perfect thing, and I wanted him to take it back. I didn’t want him to love me, because it would hurt him so much more when I was gone.
There was nothing I could say to make him think any different. If I told him not to, he wouldn’t listen. If I ran, he would find me. If I told him he meant nothing to me, he wouldn’t believe me.
So I didn’t say anything. I stood there breathlessly while he leaned down to kiss me. As soon as his lips molded onto mine, I clung to him tighter.
I wasn’t just a bad influence and a liar. I was an utterly selfish bitch.
Warrick drew back and pressed his forehead against mine. “Do you want to get some sleep, or stay on watch with me?”
“With you,” I whispered back. At least that part wasn’t a lie.
Warrick nodded and took my hand, leading me to the middle of store. We stood on either side of the front door, peeking through the curtains to make sure they stayed empty. More than once, I saw Warrick glancing my way and offering me a smile. I did the same, but it didn’t reach my heart.
I wasn’t sure anything would ever again.
Chapter 22
Sephiel arrived for his watch early, telling Warrick and me to get some sleep. We returned to the storeroom and laid together, me using his chest as a pillow while he used my body as a blanket. He was overly exhausted, and it wasn’t long before he fell asleep.
I tried, but couldn’t catch more than a couple solid hours. I would nod off, then snap back awake. Eventually I couldn’t lie there anymore, no matter how comfortable I was. I eased off Warrick’s chest and shrugged out of my jacket, draping it over his chest as a makeshift blanket. As I stood up, he shifted and rolled onto his side, clutching my jacket to his chest before falling back to deep sleep.
So much for promising never to fall in love again. Dro was right about me.
I shook off the painful memory of her and my feelings for Warrick, opening the door and silently closing it behind me. I turned around and jumped near out of my skin when I saw Michael standing in front of me.
I pressed a hand to my chest to slow my racing heartbeat, then glared at the archangel. “You scared the shit out of me,” I hissed.
Michael looked at me blankly. “It was not my intent.”
It wasn’t a full-fledged apology, but it was the most I’d get from him.
Then he surprised me.
“I want to thank you for saving my life,” said Michael.
I stared at him, stupefied by what he said. I hadn’t expected an apology, let alone him thanking me. Since I was too stunned to speak, Michael took that as an invitation to keep talking.
“I am fully aware that I have been disrespectful and insulting toward you and your followers.”
“I think you mean friends,” I corrected. “There’s a difference, but keep talking.”
Michael’s upper lip stiffened, but to my utter amazement, he didn’t scold me or strike me down. “It appears that my fellow angels have abandoned our cause. I am unfamiliar with the consequences of this.”
I shrugged, crossing my arms under my breasts. “Might as well get used to the feeling. It sucks, but it’s part of life. Nobody can stay on top forever.”
“Not even Lucifer.”
My arms tightened around my chest. I wasn’t sure he was saying that in hope of me backing him up, or if he was confident in the statement, so I played it smart and didn’t answer. Michael stared at me without blinking for what seemed like an eternity. I don’t know if he was trying to read my mind or wait for me to speak, but I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to say to him. I would have gone into the backroom and slept beside Warrick again if I thought for one second that I would get some rest.
I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Won’t be much longer now.
Michael took my silence as an opportunity to speak again.
“I feel the need to be forthcoming with you.”
I sighed. Great.
“Your sister was more of the timid sort before aligning herself with Lucifer.”
I slid my hand down to my hatchet as a silent warning. Michael refused to acknowledge it.
“As difficult as this shall be for you to hear, it must be said.”
“Then get on with it,” I told him impatiently.
Michael took another breath, ready to monologue. “The fragments distort the mind, turning innocent eyes to bloodshed, fuelling sin and ultimately powering the Hell Gate. It is a weapon aimed at humans, but can have a devastating effect in supernaturals.” Michael’s eyes were so intense it almost hurt to look into them.
“It is my belief that your sister has a fragment inside of her.”
It made sense, in its own way. Dro was acting the complete opposite of herself, and Lucifer was the worst catalyst I could imagine. Who knew what he’d done to her in the three days she’d been under his sway? Though at the same time, it seemed more complicated than that.
“Dro’s smarter than that. She wouldn’t have accepted it. She saw what it did to me.”
“And yet, I recognized its power coming from her,” Michael insisted. He took a slow step toward me, looking almost sympathetic. “She has become more powerful than I could have perceived. If is has fused with her bloodstream, I fear there is only one way to remove the fragment’s influence from her.”
My blood turned cold. I gripped my hatchet in a white-knuckle grip, but I was incredibly tempted to draw it and slap Michael across the face with it.
“You have a lot of fucking nerve,” I whispered gravely.
“This is not what you wish to hear, but you must understand–”
“No,” I interrupted. “This is what you need to understand.”
For once, Michael didn’t try to talk over me.
“Dro is my sister, no matter what she’s turned in to. I had a fragment inside of me, and she took it out. I can do the same for her. It will be fucking torture, but I’ll do it. So if you get in my way or try to kill her when I’m not around, there is nothing, natural or supernatural, that will protect you from me.”
I took a step forward this time, looking up into Michael’s face even though I had to tilt my head back as far as I could to do it.
“You’re human now, Michael. That means anyone can kill you. So don’t fucking push me.”
If he’d been his old self, he probably would have obliterated me with a stylish snap of his fingers. But just as he’d given me a cold, hard truth, I gav
e him one right back. Kill Dro, get killed by me. It was the only simple truth that remained in my life.
“I know what drives these fragments,” Michael said. “But I do not understand how they could be removed short of death. Unless yours was a false one.”
The idea had never occurred to me. Maybe it should have. Then I remembered the blazing agony, the warped mindset I’d been trapped in, the blood on my hands from the deranged yet innocent people I’d killed. The ash that had dissolved in the vial Maria has shown me.