Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Carter, Taxi and Milo were already on the plane with Gray by the time I boarded. I was the last to arrive, having chosen to make my own way in. But I’d needed the solo time to get my head – and heart – straight.
I passed the Academy Grigori who’d congregated at the front and paused when I saw Phoenix sitting at the midway point.
‘You okay?’ I asked.
He smirked in that way of his. ‘Your pals at the back tried to jump me when I boarded, but I think we made friends.’
I glanced beyond him to where the Rogues were sitting. Milo had a large bruise forming on his temple. I rolled my eyes but found myself smiling back at Phoenix. ‘Please play nice.’
He sobered and glanced out the window. ‘I’m trying.’
I nodded awkwardly, knowing that he was saying a lot in that statement.
‘Thank you,’ I said, causing his eyes to flash up and meet mine. I wanted to cry when I saw the pain that churned within them and wondered if he saw something similar when he looked in mine. ‘For saving me. I never said thank you.’
‘Definitely beats killing you,’ he said, as if pondering this very idea himself.
We really are a twisted bunch.
‘I’m glad,’ I said, suddenly aware of more than one set of eyes on us. I shifted from foot to foot. ‘I’d better go and …’ I gestured to the back of the plane where the guys were sitting.
‘Yeah,’ he said, looking back to the window. ‘You’d better.’
Making my way down the aisle, I noted that they looked incredibly uncomfortable despite their outward bravado. I shook my head when I saw Milo.
‘You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?’ I said, pointing at his bruised face.
He smiled, cheekily. ‘It’s like a compulsion I can’t control. I see an exile and I have to have it.’
I bit my lips to hold back the laugh. ‘And did you learn your lesson?’
Milo nodded. ‘Fast bastard, isn’t he?’
To that, I couldn’t hold back the chuckle. At least Milo looked like he’d got it out of his system.
‘’Bout time you turned up to your own party, purple,’ Carter said by way of greeting.
‘Boys,’ I nodded to them. ‘Miss me?’ I stifled my own surprise when I realised that I had missed them.
Carter snorted while Taxi and Milo chuckled. ‘You know we did,’ Milo said.
‘This gig paying?’ Carter asked, cutting to the chase when I sat in the spare seat across from him.
I shrugged and glanced over at him. ‘Well, I guess that depends on what value you put on the world as you know it.’
‘Oh, please, spare me. Are you seriously going to pull some save-the-world crap on me?’
I rolled my eyes. I’d known it was a long shot. ‘I’ll figure something out,’ I grumbled.
‘Damn right you will,’ Carter threw back.
‘Did you get anywhere on the exile priest before you left?’
Carter snorted. ‘We only had two days before Gray sent us off to rescue you.’ He gave a toothy grin. ‘Of course we got him. The SOB couldn’t stop himself from trying his moves at a Sunday Mass – daft bugger was so senseless he tried to help himself to Westminster Abbey. Last thing he ever did.’
I smiled, pleased the exile priest was out of the way. And by the look on Carter’s face he had enjoyed being the vehicle of deliverance.
‘Why do they go for religion?’ I asked.
Carter leaned forward. ‘Come on, purple. That’s the easiest question of ’em all. They all want what they can’t have. They think they should be the ones who are worshipped, they think they should be in charge.’
‘And what if one of them has actually created a new religion?’ I asked.
Carter raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, he wouldn’t be the first, but it’s kind of like the ultimate finger to the sky, you know.’
I was surprised by Carter’s response. I lowered my voice. ‘Do you believe in God, Carter?’
‘Hell, purple, I haven’t even had a beer yet.’ He sighed, seeing I was still waiting for his answer. ‘Look, ask yourself this: if there isn’t, do you really wanna know? ’Cause I sure as shit don’t.’
I licked my lips. ‘Good point,’ I admitted.
‘I’m full of them,’ he said, winking at me before looking towards the sound of approaching footsteps. ‘Who are you, then?’ he barked.
I didn’t need to look up to know Lincoln was standing in the aisle. ‘I’m running this mission with Violet,’ he said levelly.
I closed my eyes briefly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, while pushing my emotions down.
‘Carter, this is Lincoln. He’s … He was my partner.’
‘Is,’ Lincoln interjected.
Carter gave Lincoln a long visual assessment and then turned back to me. And burst out laughing. ‘Pretty boy here was your partner?’
‘Is,’ Lincoln corrected again.
Ignoring Lincoln, I nodded at Carter even as I glared at him.
He choked on his next bout of laughter, wiping his hand down his face. ‘Well, no wonder you came running to us.’
I stood up, ignoring whatever Lincoln had started to say. I hadn’t even been able to bring myself to look at him yet but that didn’t stop an internal raging at Carter’s words. I moved right into his personal space, knowing how much that vexed him.
My voice was surprisingly steady. ‘You don’t get to say that, Carter. You don’t get to pretend like you know me or have any idea why I’ve done the things I’ve done. You definitely don’t get to comment on why I left my partner. He’s a stronger Grigori than you will ever be and not just because he fights harder. It’s because he’s better than any of us. So, listen carefully when I tell you this: Don’t. Go. There.’
I was so close to Carter’s face I saw the flash of fear in his eyes.
‘Yeah, yeah, I hear you, purple.’ He glanced over to Gray. ‘Hell, man. A bit of warning that this dude’s her trigger switch mighta been nice.’
‘And miss this? Never,’ Gray said as I plonked myself back into my seat to the sound of his and Taxi’s laughter.
Finally, I looked up to see Lincoln staring at me, his eyes glassy.
Oh, hell. How am I going to put this one out?
I expected him to sit down and start going over our non-relationship again, or at least the plan for when we arrived in New Orleans, but after a moment his brow furrowed slightly and his eyes cleared, looking into me in a way no one else ever has or will, as he drew his own conclusions.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
Finally, he just bit his lip, smiled warmly at me, then turned and walked back to the front of the plane where Zoe, Salvatore and the others had all been pretending – unsuccessfully – not to gawk.
Phoenix, who was sitting at the halfway mark, didn’t hide the fact that he’d watched the whole thing.
Jesus. This is going to be a long flight.
I did the only thing I could do. I tucked myself into a corner and went to sleep.
CHaPteR tweNty-tHRee
‘Passion is unjust, and for an idle, transitory gust of gratified revenge, dooms us to pay with long repentance at a later day.’
Theognis of Megara
PHOENIX
I am in agony.
My mind races with options but they’re all hopeless. And painful. Every breath feels tight. Impossible. And I know it shouldn’t hurt this much just to breathe, but it does.
I’m back. I’m in human form again. I should want a glass of wine; a day lying in the sun; a thunderstorm, for Christ’s sake – all the things that I once treasured about being corporeal. But even after everything, there is only one thing on my traitorous mind.
Christ. I can smell her.
Reach out and touch her.
She’s been sleeping for the past hour, tossing and turning; she wouldn’t even know if I did.
Not that Lincoln wouldn’t be on me in a flash. He might be si
tting at the other end of the plane but he’s not fooling anyone. Every molecule of that man is attuned to her. Just like me.
But, the difference is, she doesn’t want me.
The truth? She never has.
The torture? I’ve always known.
Still, I look at her and ache. Still, I lose my breath. And worse, I don’t care about myself any more. I just want her pain to stop. I want her to be happy. Even though I know who makes her the happiest.
Is this love?
Of course it is.
The worst kind.
And I can’t have it any more. I can’t survive it. She knows that as well as me. Eternity is too long a time to lie to myself. And yet, how can I consider an existence without her? She is all I have ever known of true desire.
All I have ever known of my true self. Lust incarnate. It should be so easy, human form again. I should be working her out of my system, but the mere idea of another woman makes my skin crawl.
Maybe if they weren’t all so predictably lost to my leaking emotions … but they are. Even here, on this plane with these Grigori warriors, I can sense the females keeping their attention on me, though they don’t understand why.
They don’t care for me. None of them. The only one who ever did was Violet. Even if it was fleeting. Even if it never compared to how she feels for him. Even if I’ve known it all along. It was still the purest thing I have ever felt.
And how did I repay her?
I’ve damn well broken her, too. It all comes back to me. My choices. My darkness. And now she carries a part of me within her. And it destroys me that she is using it to slowly kill herself.
Now death himself wants her and I have to help her fight. Sammael is pure evil, with a plan. He won’t stop until he is put down. But, can she do this?
Hell, she’d better. Otherwise I won’t be the only one who is ruined.
She has no idea how important she is.
I rake my fingers through my hair and am fighting the urge to scream, to go on a rampage that once I would never have denied myself. Instead, I force it back; the malign. But I know it’s just a matter of time. It’s in me. A part of me.
Darkness.
Eventually, it will rise. And it will target its attention in the very same direction as my heart. My jaw clenches. I won’t survive hurting her again.
Somehow, it must stop.
Suddenly she is sitting beside me. Hell, I need to pay more attention.
‘Phoenix,’ she says, and I want to scream because just hearing her say my name hurts and lowers me to an all-new level of wretchedness. And I want to cry because I think that it might be all that my future holds: waiting for her to say my name, and then screaming in agony when she does.
‘Sammael?’ she begins. She looks pale. And though she can shut down her emotions, I’ll always be able to sense enough – perhaps even more than she can herself. Something has upset her.
I nod.
‘Did you know him?’ she asks.
I shake my head, still struggling to make my voice work. I hate myself. ‘Lilith knew him,’ I finally manage. ‘Very well.’ I let a little innuendo slip into my answer, shielding me like a mask.
It makes her nervous and she inches away from me.
Better.
‘I see. He was there, wasn’t he?’
I nod again, but she already knows.
All that is now happening is because of me. Because of everything I did. If I hadn’t brought Lilith back, Sammael would never have known that Violet existed. Given what I think he is after and could possibly achieve, it brings the term ‘the weight of the world on your shoulders’ a very literal meaning.
I manage to speak again. ‘He owed Lilith; she was collecting.’
Violet’s forehead crinkles and her breathing tightens and I know she is remembering that night. Is she remembering my role? Seeing me standing before her, loading the crossbow and shooting her with arrow after arrow. Is that all she sees now when she looks at me?
Christ, I just want it to end. There was a moment there when I was facing Lilith – her hand gripping the blade in my gut – where I thought it was all over and I remember looking beyond my mother and into Violet’s eyes. I remember exhaling.
But it isn’t over. It never will be. There are no retirement plans for exiled angels – just the promise of more. My ‘forever’ can’t feel like this – empty. My only hope is to find some form of satisfaction. And that will only come from finding hers. I could almost laugh. The crying shame of it all is that her happiness is directly connected to another man.
Yeah, life’s a sneaky bitch.
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 towards 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 centre 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 recognised 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 realised that, he changed. His armour 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.
CHaPteR tweNty-fOUR
‘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 travelled to Santorini to try to stop Phoenix 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 Nephlim, 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.
Empower: Violet Eden Chapters: Book Five Page 20
