And the kicker? I’m not even sure it will work—that it will help me at all. But I know, beyond a doubt, that it will heal her.
“He took my blood, Phoenix,” she says, finally admitting it, and because I’ve done nothing but watch over her since that night, I know that this is the first time she has said it aloud. And that hurts too. That she would trust me enough to confide in me and yet it changes nothing. She doesn’t want me.
“Yes. And I imagine he has used most of it by now.”
“The dreams?”
When I simply hold her gaze, she draws in a sharp breath and I know I’m only confirming her worst fears, the ones she has kept suppressed even from herself. And I understand why. Having someone like Sammael force himself inside your head, control what you see…It’s a vile poison.
She shivers and I have to fist my hands to halt their gravitational pull toward her.
“You just had one, didn’t you?” It’s the only downside of being back in her world; I don’t get to instantly know what goes through her mind, but I’m willing to bet that that’s why she looks like she’s just seen a ghost.
She presses her lips together and nods.
“Tell me,” I say, keeping my voice relaxed, even as I try to prepare for how bad it might be.
She swallows hard. “There are trumpets sounding from everywhere. And it feels much more like a memory than a dream, just not mine, you know?”
I nod her on.
“The dragon was there and I watched as it carved through lines of warriors all dressed in white, all…magnificent.” She breathes the last word in awe. “But it’s always the presence in the center that the dragon focuses on, and so do I. I try to see beyond the army of white, but I can’t see him.” Her head snaps up as she puts the pieces together. “It’s Michael, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I say. “You are seeing the angels at war.” Which makes me want to grab her and run, but there is no place I can keep her safe.
“This time, there was this awful battle cry and then I could see the one riding the dragon, with a huge sword in his hand. I recognized him instantly,” she said quietly, her shoulders shuddering at the memory of the dream. Every part of me wants to reach out and comfort her, but I don’t.
“He screamed out…It was pure…bloodlust and it urged the dragon forward.” Her breath quivers and I know what she is about to say. “It was Sammael. And when I realized that, he changed. His armor suddenly turned into his suit and he was wearing his glasses when he looked right into my eyes. There was blood on his lips and he smiled. At me—through the dream.” She jolts and finds her way through the memory and back to me before she continues.
“He’s controlling the dreamscape, isn’t he? He’s really there with me.”
I don’t answer. I don’t need to. A part of her has been waiting for all of this since the moment he took her blood. And she knows as well as I do that these games he is playing are all to ensure that he succeeds in luring her into his trap.
“Phoenix,” she begins, her voice catching, and I wait for her to ask. Finally she is ready. She swallows again. “Why does he want me?”
I don’t look at her. Instead, I grip my thighs so hard, I can feel them bruise.
“Because you’re the rainbow. The link between the realms.”
“The covenant,” she whispers.
“Partly. But there’s a chance that it’s much more,” I say.
She doesn’t push. Instead, she simply accepts it. “Well, he’s never going to get the chance to do whatever it is he has planned.”
“You think you’re that strong?” I ask, intrigued. I know she is. I know she hasn’t even begun to accept how powerful she is.
I risk a glance in her direction and she licks her lips. I look away quickly.
“I’m a better fighter than ever. The full force of the Academy is behind us. We can beat him.”
I look out the window. “And what if it was just him and you?”
I can feel her smile, and I make sure not to look because I know that it will carve me in two just to see it.
“Then it would be a good day.”
I understand. It would be her preference even if it meant unimaginable pain for her. It was an acceptable price to pay so she would not have to stand by and see those she loves hurt.
Especially him.
I’ve watched her these past two years. I’ve understood her pain, and as a consequence of sharing my essence with her, I even feel a shadow of it. It is unlike anything humanly or angelically bearable.
How she survives it, I will never know.
“Do not turn to mediums or necromancers; do not seek them out, and so make yourselves unclean by them.”
Leviticus 19:31
The first time I went to New York, I was overwhelmed by the number of exiles populating Manhattan. Arriving in New Orleans was not dissimilar, and yet it also reminded me of a particular sense of foreboding that I could only associate with my first impressions of Santorini.
We had traveled to Santorini to try to stop Phoenix from opening the gates to Hell, and I had discovered that the island was under the control of a lone exile: an ancient by the name of Irin who had fathered a number of children with a human woman he would eternally mourn.
Irin’s children were Nephilim, and their power had been similar yet different from that of an exile. They had the ability to access the minds of Grigori. I didn’t know if it was a skill unique to Irin’s offspring, but I wasn’t keen to find out.
As we loaded into the four-wheel drives that would take us to the Grigori safe house, I couldn’t deny the prickling sensation that ran from my spine to my toes.
“There are Nephilim here,” I said to my carload, which included Zoe, Sal, Gray, and Mia. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that Mia had chosen to travel with me instead of Lincoln, and I knew that it was her way of reinforcing that her relationship with him was nothing more than friendship.
And I continue to have absolutely NFI how to respond.
More unsettling was the fact that Phoenix and Lincoln had ended up in a car together. The last time those two went off alone, I ended up part of an elaborate resurrection plan.
You can’t blame a girl for being nervous.
“Is that what that creepy, slick feeling running all over my skin is?” Zoe asked, screwing up her face.
I wasn’t sure about that. I knew what she was referring to, but I worried that that was something else altogether. “All I know is that there are a lot of them. Exiles too. And they’re very old.” Not quite as ancient as Irin, but still, there were seriously powerful exiles here. I swallowed, gripping the door handle as we took a sharp turn. We had already been warned the drive would be “defensive.”
“And they’re all exiles of light,” I added, feeling the weight of my statement fill the vehicle.
“No exiles of dark at all?” Gray asked carefully.
I let him see my eyes, and that was all he needed.
“We need to keep Phoenix hidden,” I said. Apart from the fact he had betrayed all exiles—who took vengeance very seriously—by helping us stop Lilith, now that the rivalry between light and dark was in full force, I knew that we had put him in danger just by bringing him to New Orleans.
Gray pulled out his phone and started to type.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He didn’t pause. “There’s an emergency code. A group of Rogues got together about sixty years back. We set it up and kept it running. There are two codes. One to prepare. One to mobilize.”
I nodded, my mouth dry. The Rogues would only come together if the situation was, well, unprecedented.
To be sure, I checked. “Have they ever been activated before?”
“Not once,” he said, putting his phone away.
Zoe, who was sitting next to Gray, raised an eyebrow. “Wh
ich one did you trigger?”
He looked at her and I couldn’t help but notice that his eyes seemed to soften slightly. “There’s something very bad here.”
Sal nodded. “He’s right. There is something…” He closed his eyes. “Like a shield of lies covering the land, but that’s not it. More like…intent and ignorance.” He opened his eyes. “This place is like a world separate from our own.”
Zoe shuddered. “I can feel it too. The trees, they’re not right. I know this sounds strange, but it feels as if they’re here against their will.”
I thought about what Dapper had said, how this land had been raised from the water. If Sammael had brought this land from the ocean, then perhaps what Zoe said was right. If it had stayed where it was, trees would never have grown.
And people would not live here.
Zoe pulled out a packet of M&M’s and offered them around. No one felt much like a sugar hit. When she looked at Gray, her eyes intensified. “Which one did you activate, Gray?”
His eyes flicked up and met mine before he sighed. “It’ll take them at least twenty-four hours to get here.”
He’d mobilized them.
Jesus.
I rolled my eyes and slumped back in my seat; it was that or reach over and smack him over the head—and Zoe was already in motion.
“You just risked Spence’s life!” she said, hitting him again for good measure.
Gray’s upper lip started to bleed. Zoe never pulled her punches.
“Hit him for me too, please,” Mia requested from Zoe’s other side.
Zoe was happy to comply.
I wanted to be mad at him. I wanted hitting him to make it better. But deep down, I knew he was right. This place…it was flooded with exiles and Nephilim. We were going to need backup. Spence would agree.
And the way I saw it, it just meant I was going to have to find Spence sooner rather than later. Fine by me.
While they bickered in the back, I turned to the driver, who was one of the few local Grigori stationed in New Orleans.
“It’s Roman, right?” I asked.
He nodded stiffly.
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” I said.
Roman kept his eyes on the road and his foot flat on the gas. “I need to get you to the city safe house first. Then we can talk all you like.”
I noticed that his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly were dirty and his jeans and gray sweater looked in need of a wash.
“They’re hunting you?”
“Always,” he admitted.
I nodded. “Where are we going?”
“We’ll stay in the French Quarter tonight and move you out to the ships in the morning.”
Lincoln had already arranged for us to use naval ships in the Mississippi River. Two destroyers would arrive tomorrow. Having Grigori positioned in all military ranks did come in handy.
“So I take it you know why we’re here,” I said.
His jaw clenched. “You’re here to rescue your friend.”
“You say that like it’s a lost cause,” I pushed.
His lips pressed into a flat line, and I noticed the thick, pink scar that ran down the side of his neck. Burn scars, maybe.
“I arrived here six months ago. I can’t even remember what life is like outside this place, and I’m certain I will never know it again. There were twelve of us who arrived, only to discover that all of the Grigori who were supposed to be here were missing.” His eyes flicked to mine. “There are three of us left.”
I nodded, understanding his pain. “Your partner?” I asked.
“Gone.”
I nodded again, and my next words were a statement, not a question. “You think my friend is dead.”
He turned into a narrow street and then took another sharp left into an open driveway. The tires ran over loose gravel, which flicked beneath the car until we pulled to a sudden stop and he looked at me.
“I think your friend is dead.”
At least he’s honest.
Ours was the last car to pull in. Lincoln and the others were waiting by theirs, but Phoenix stood apart from the group, farther down the driveway. He was looking toward the street, and I could tell he was using his abilities to try and gauge how threatening our surroundings were.
Extremely damn threatening! I wanted to yell. But I didn’t, since it was taking all my concentration fighting off the urge to be sick. I had worked so hard for the past two years to avoid this…sense of responsibility. But now Phoenix had exiled for me and there he was, right in the middle of everything. Because of me. And if something happened to him, it would be my fault.
Roman cut the engine, but I didn’t move.
Christ, I was practically hyperventilating and I hadn’t even begun to think about how much worse it could get.
But then Lincoln was there, opening my car door, and I couldn’t ignore him completely. I stared at him. Yeah, it got much, much worse. The whole thing was starting to feel a lot like déjà vu, and in the most terrible way.
Lincoln’s eyes stayed on mine as I stepped out of the car. I knew he was sensing my fears, but when his hand reached out to touch me, I shook my head and quickly took a step back. After giving me a long look, Lincoln let it slide and I shoved my emotions back down and forced a neutral expression as introductions were made. Now more than ever, I needed to stay focused on the job and on getting Spence back.
Along with Roman were partners Ray and Leila, who appeared to be in charge of their small team.
“Why don’t we get your gear inside and then grab something to eat? There’s a place down the road that’s safe and has good food,” Ray suggested.
Lincoln nodded. “We’ll set up a team here to watch the house. They can go out in groups when we return. It’ll also give us a chance to talk first,” he added.
Ray nodded and instructed Roman to stay behind to help get everyone else settled.
While Lincoln asked Zoe and Sal to oversee and head up the security of the house, I pulled Phoenix aside.
“You need to stay in the house, where you won’t draw any attention to yourself,” I instructed.
He smiled grimly. “You felt them too?”
“Just enough to have me seriously freaking out. Clearly this is their territory, and if they sense an exile of dark here, they’ll go mad. We can’t afford for them to storm this place.”
He nodded, suddenly interested in the shrubbery. “And here I thought for a moment you were worried about me.”
I opened my mouth to snap back, to tell him that he knew damn well I was worried about him. But the words just stuck in my throat, and instead, I sighed. “I’m worried about everyone, Phoenix. You included.”
“And what about you?” he asked, looking up and holding my wary eyes. “Are you worried about yourself?”
My throat ached with the need to have some kind of release—a scream or a cry. Either one probably would have helped. “Don’t do this,” I said instead, quietly, glancing over my shoulder and catching sight of Lincoln watching us intently. The ache dropped to my heart. “Just stay in the house, okay?” I pleaded.
“Don’t worry. I’ll behave,” Phoenix said, not looking at me again before throwing his bag over his shoulder and heading into the house.
Lincoln and I left the house with Ray, Leila, Gray, Carter, and Chloe. Carter had looked positively miffed when Lincoln asked him to come with us, but I wasn’t. It was a tactical move. Lincoln had marked him as a potential problem and was including him in the inner circle to ensure he didn’t cause any trouble. Carter was eating it up, hook, line, and sinker.
As we followed Ray and Leila down the street, I took a few minutes to process—or at least move past—my conversation with Phoenix. I was relieved that Lincoln didn’t ask questions and had chosen to walk with Gray. He was giving me some space.
>
Still knows me. Still thoughtful.
From what I caught of their conversation, Gray was using the opportunity to smoothly bring Lincoln up to date on his recent call to mobilize the entire Rogue community. Hearing snatches of Lincoln’s heated response, it was safe to assume he wasn’t happy Gray had made this choice before consulting him. But, like me, I could tell he also knew there was little point in dwelling on it now.
“Whoa! What is this place?” I asked after turning the corner. I was suddenly dodging crowds of people and thrown off-kilter by the scene in front of me. I tugged Chloe’s arm, maneuvering us to the side. The street was alive with music and mayhem. People spilled out of clubs and bars for as far as I could see.
Leila smiled, guiding us all to a less crowded area. “This is Bourbon Street.”
When it became obvious I was nervous about being in such a public place, she continued. “This street is always busy to the extreme. Exiles are everywhere, but humans are too,” she said pointedly. “Plus, half of them are drunk and it helps confuse the vibe. If exiles sense us and start a hunt, it’s easy to get away, and we have a number of exit strategies. We’re safer here than somewhere secluded, trust me.”
I nodded, my mouth agape as I looked around. I had been curious to see New Orleans. I’d heard the stories of its epic nightlife, but nothing could have prepared me for the first taste of craziness. There were so many people, of all ages, and they were all here to party. We passed bars, clubs, restaurants, cabaret places, and jazz playhouses. Some guy even tried to drag Chloe inside for a pole-dancing lesson, which sent Carter into hysterics. People not only lined the street but also the balconies that hung over it, all throwing out colorful beaded necklaces, which we had to dodge as we walked through.
And, in the center of it all, chanting into a megaphone was a preacher standing in front of a large red crucifix proclaiming that the revelers were all going to burn in Hell. He labeled New Orleans the “Devil’s playground”; knowing what I now knew and looking around at my first, late-night impressions, I couldn’t help but wonder if preacher man might just be on to something.
I’d traveled to a lot of cities over the past two years. I’d seen my fair share of red-light districts, and there wasn’t much that affected me anymore, but this, this street seeped into my bones and I didn’t know what to make of it.
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