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Empower: Violet Eden Chapters: Book Five

Page 32

by Shirvington, Jessica


  ‘Judgement must come to pass.’

  My stomach sank and I shook my head.

  New Orleans.

  ‘No. No. We know you’ve saved the city before. You can turn the hurricane back out to sea. We stopped Sammael. Now you can do it again!’

  ‘We are angels, child. Our function is finite.’

  ‘What? You’re just going to wipe out the entire city?’

  ‘The land is intended for the ocean. Life will be reinstated beneath the water in time to come.’

  ‘And all the people who live there now are just supposed to die? What will they do?’

  Stoically, he replied, ‘What they always have. They will panic, they will mourn and they will fight back. Eventually, they will move on, speculate, learn and, in time, forget. It is the way of humanity.’

  ‘But I’m supposed to be your rainbow, the symbol of this covenant that protects us, that promises faith in humanity!’

  ‘And you have done your part and more in protecting the masses. You will continue to do so.’

  ‘But it’s not enough?’ I asked, my legs giving out as Lincoln caught me.

  ‘We need to get her back!’ he said urgently.

  My angel maker ignored him as we continued to stare unblinkingly at one another. ‘Right?’ I pushed.

  His chin lowered slowly. ‘It is the way it must be. We cannot deny the opportunity to right what was wronged and rid the world of so many of our exiles. You will understand in time.’

  I shook my head. ‘No! No amount of time will ever make this right. This is because of exiles, not humans. The time of punishing humans for suffering the choices of angels and the insanity of exiles is over!’ I stood taller as my angel maker raised an eyebrow at my outburst.

  But I held his gaze, letting him see the truth.

  With Lincoln and I joined as we were, and with everything I now knew, I was complete. And I was capable.

  ‘I can see what you are thinking,’ he said.

  ‘Is it possible?’ I asked.

  He considered me, glancing briefly at Lincoln as if seeing him for the first time. It probably was the first time he’d bothered.

  ‘You have proven that much is a possibility. But even so, there will be a price.’

  ‘There always is, Michael. There always is.’

  My angel maker, the commander of all armies, the greatest of all the Sole angels and according to some, one and the same as Jesus, gave me a small and knowing smile, raising his chin slightly, as if basking in his name. And I watched, stunned, as a solitary tear crept down his cheek.

  ‘I never asked for you to fight him,’ he said with a touch of defiance.

  ‘With my blood on his sword, would you have won?’ I asked.

  ‘It is likely.’

  The angel, identical to Michael, standing at his side, chuckled lightly.

  I almost did a double-take. It was such a strange thing to see an angel so animated.

  ‘But not certain?’ I pushed Michael.

  ‘Not certain,’ he conceded.

  I shrugged. ‘Well, that wasn’t a risk I was willing to take. Not when it seems you’re kind of important to the end game.’

  ‘You are of great importance, too.’

  ‘Yeah, well, we’re about to find out exactly what I can do.’

  He bowed his head. ‘You will not have much time to act once you return.’

  I understood. For now time was halted but once we returned, the city of New Orleans would still be crumbling around us.

  I turned slightly to the angel standing beside Michael. He was garishly dressed in snug black pants, a silver shirt and lightly tinted sunglasses, and when I looked straight at him, he was striking in a way Michael was not. I couldn’t take my eyes off him and yet, when I hadn’t been looking at him, I wasn’t drawn to him at all. As if he were somehow hidden in plain sight.

  ‘If you stand at the side of the Prince of the Elect, am I right in assuming you are the Prince of the Malign?’

  He nodded, his eyes brimming with mischief.

  I watched curiously. ‘But you’re an angel? All about function and all that?’

  ‘To an end,’ he said, his voice unnervingly similar to Michael’s.

  I raised an eyebrow. ‘Do I even want to know your name?’

  ‘Oh, everyone knows my name, at least, one or two of them. But I prefer that you simply think of me as the one who shines brightest.’ He smiled.

  Michael cleared his throat, cutting him off. But when they looked at each other, their eyes shared a brotherhood and fondness that was distant yet true.

  Light and dark. Elect and Malign. United, as has always been.

  I marvelled at the complexities of life as I moved my hand into Lincoln’s. He sighed with relief that it seemed I was ready to get moving. I started to turn but then looked back at the angels, feeling an overwhelming sadness in the knowledge that one day some of them might choose through pride and ego to exile in an attempt to take charge of my world.

  ‘Now that we have created this space, can you return here any time you wish?’ I asked.

  Michael nodded. ‘If we were to wish.’

  I squeezed Lincoln’s hand as I absorbed Michael’s words, a seed of an idea already blooming in my mind. I smirked at Lincoln and he smiled back, shaking his head as if he already knew what I had in mind.

  He probably does.

  ‘Can we please go now?’ he asked.

  I nodded, knowing that my plan could wait.

  I started to concentrate on crossing us back over when the angel beside Michael spoke up.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask?’ he called out.

  ‘Ask what?’ I replied.

  ‘About God!’

  ‘Oh. No. I don’t need to,’ I threw back.

  ‘Why?’ he asked, genuinely intrigued. ‘Everyone asks.’

  I looked up at Lincoln, whose expression suggested he was about to take on the Prince of Malign angels himself if he didn’t let us get going soon so he could heal me.

  ‘Nah,’ I said, keeping my eyes on Lincoln. ‘I know where heaven is and I’m going there now. I’m not stupid enough to waste my time sweating the small stuff.’

  And then the oddest thing happened.

  As Lincoln and I crossed the realms I was sure the last thing I saw was thousands of angels laughing. And the sound … soul churning, like a choir of harps, a sole trumpet rising above, heralding a new era.

  CHaPteR tHIRty-SIX

  ‘What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.’

  Ralph Waldo Emerson

  the winds assaulted us the instant we returned to the rooftop. Lincoln put his arm around my waist and half carried me to the elevator.

  The hurricane was in full force, the battle below at its height and all around us the city was crumbling. The riverbank was overflowing and far out I could see the waters moving in, taking the land bit by bit, and I knew that the angels would not stop this until they had their reason.

  ‘I need to get closer!’ I yelled as I stumbled.

  Lincoln put me down on the ground, helping me all the way when my legs gave out. ‘Concentrate,’ he ordered.

  I nodded, drawing into my weakened power and opening myself up to our connection. I felt his power, strong and ready, surge into me, charging me like a battery so that together, we could heal my wounds.

  Once satisfied, he rocked back on his heels and brushed the hair out of my face. ‘Better?’

  ‘Better,’ I said, sitting up and then standing. I was ready.

  Lincoln grabbed the bag he’d left lodged by the elevator. He pulled out a long cable rope.

  ‘The power is down; we’re going to have to jump,’ he instructed, already tying the rope to a metal support beam and then to his belt. I loaded up with the extra katana I’d packed in the bag and my spare dagger. Carefully, I nicked the edge of my wrist, noting the large scar that now lived there, and edged the blades with my blood, swiping Linco
ln’s from his waist and giving it the same treatment before he could stop me.

  He grabbed it back, resting his hand on my wrist to close the small wound before fighting against the wind as he walked over to the edge of the tall building.

  He held his right arm out and without hesitation I stepped into his embrace and we backed off the edge of the building.

  Propelling into a war zone in a shower of glass as windows exploded under the hurricane’s force, Lincoln expertly guided us down, and the moment our feet touched the ground we unsheathed our weapons and ran towards the river.

  We worked quickly and relentlessly as we charged through the battlefield. Exiles had lost whatever hold on reality they once had and were attacking Grigori and exiles alike, all while dragging innocent humans in for the slaughter.

  I saw two exiles beating a group of human men who were trying to defend two women and their young children. Lincoln saw at the same time and we risked the quick detour, running down the street now ankle-deep in water, grabbing the exiles and pulling them off the men before dispensing with them.

  The men scrambled to the women and children protectively. ‘What the hell’s going on?’ they screamed over the hurricane.

  ‘Run!’ I yelled. ‘Get as far away from the river as you can! Run and don’t look back!’

  The men didn’t hesitate, lifting the children and starting to move away. ‘What about you?’ one of the women yelled, looking back. ‘Come with us!’

  I shook my head and smiled at the little girl in one of the men’s arms. She couldn’t have been older than four or five. ‘Please, run!’ I told them again before Lincoln and I took off.

  We returned a number of exiles as we moved, and though it was plain to see how extreme things had become I found my eyes barely believing the scene of unrestrained combat and devastation.

  I spotted Gray in the middle of it all with Carter fighting at his side. They were both covered in blood and their team was heavily outnumbered. I could see them screaming frantically at something and I followed their line of sight. Milo and Taxi had been separated and pushed into the ocean of exiles. They were surrounded.

  ‘Up there!’ Lincoln yelled.

  But my gaze was fixed on Milo. And I could hear my shrill screams as I watched, helpless, as three exiles ripped his limbs apart. Out of nowhere a dagger flew through the air and then another, taking out the two exiles beating Taxi, and freeing him long enough for him to move out of immediate danger.

  Gray and Carter now fought with their fists, having given up their weapons to save Taxi.

  ‘Violet, we can’t stop!’ Lincoln yelled, pulling at my arm. ‘We can’t help them from here!’

  I knew he was right and tried to shake myself out of my mind spiral.

  Milo is dead.

  I looked to where Lincoln pointed. It was one of the riverbank buildings, only two storeys high. On the top Grigori were panned out – all with their arms raised as they tried to push back the wind and rain.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I said, letting him lead the way as we took down as many exiles as we could. We couldn’t stop to help Gray, but as soon as I moved into an elevated position I yelled his name and as he turned I threw him my katana, which he caught and tossed to Carter in one movement, just in time for Carter to swing the blade straight through an exile’s neck. I yanked my arrow from my back and javelined it, watching as it sailed into Gray’s hand. Knowing exactly how the weapon worked, he had no sooner split it in two than he drove the pointed ends into the eyes of the two exiles lining up for a killing blow. Gray swung his attention back to me, his determined eyes locking with mine briefly as he nodded me on before throwing himself back into the fray.

  At least they’re armed.

  We ran for the building’s outside stairs, Lincoln mowing down everything that blocked our path. His clothes were torn and blood had caked thick over his arms and neck, but he was relentless. A warrior in every way, he moved lithe and sure, carving his dagger with effective precision. I let him take the lion’s share in an effort to conserve what energy I had left. I knew that Lincoln would get us there.

  And I knew what I had to do when he did.

  We reached the base of the stairs and hit a wall of exiles fighting each other. Lincoln glanced at me and I nodded; we both knew that the exiles could sense the Grigori up there – our nature users – and wanted to take the fight to them. That was something we could not allow. Those Grigori were the only thing holding the hurricane at bay right now.

  Lincoln leaped into the fight, quickly taking out two exiles as he did, but another five promptly rounded on him.

  I’d just stepped towards him, ready to back him up, when a strong hand gripped my neck from behind and dragged me beneath the shadow of the stairs, throwing me against the wall. My head hit the brick hard and I felt the trickle of warm blood run down my neck.

  Blinking until my vision held, I looked up expecting to see the insane eyes of an exile, but instead I was met with the vicious intent of Drenson.

  ‘Adele is dead!’ he snarled, his hand wrapped around my throat holding me against the wall as the other moved his dagger firmly over my heart. ‘All of this is your fault! I’m the head of all Grigori and I will end this now!’

  My eyes darted right, to where Lincoln was still fighting off a horde of exiles. I could hear him screaming out for me between hits and knew he was feeling me through our connection. I tried to calm my thoughts and my body so that he wouldn’t lose his concentration, and I looked back at Drenson.

  ‘I’m sorry about Adele,’ I rasped, struggling to speak with his hand tightening around my neck. I considered my options but he had me. Anything I did would cause the dagger to slide right in.

  ‘You should be! Without her voting favour it’s only a matter of time before I lose my seat. It was enough to have that bitch Josephine control me at every turn, but not you!’ he spat. ‘I have hundreds of years ahead of me; I won’t live in shame while you steal everything that is mine!’

  A figure dropped from above into a crouched position, landing a few metres behind Drenson – as if it had fallen from the sky. I couldn’t make it out but even if it was an exile, it couldn’t make my situation any worse, so I kept my eyes on Drenson so as not to draw his attention to it.

  ‘I know how to stop this!’ I said.

  ‘Even more reason to finish you,’ he hissed. And just as his arm flexed and he made his move, I saw the glint of silver and then Drenson’s eyes cloud over, his arms losing their grip and falling limp along with the rest of his body as he fell to the ground face down. A Grigori dagger was embedded between his shoulderblades.

  Spence stood over him.

  His fierce, warrior eyes looked up at me sharply. ‘Always got your back, Eden.’

  I threw my arms around him and squeezed tightly before letting him go.

  He delivered a roguish smile and gestured knowingly to the stairs. ‘Do what you have to do,’ he said, giving me a nod before bending down and reefing his dagger free. ‘Chloe and I will make sure the building is protected.’

  I saw her then, running up behind him, out of breath.

  I shook my head. ‘Don’t worry about us. Go and help Gray and Carter. They’re a hundred metres up the road and need to get out of there.’

  Without another word, Spence grabbed Chloe’s arm and they ran.

  And I knew it was time to do exactly what I was put on this earth to do.

  I called out for Lincoln and turned in time to see Griffin and Josephine’s team jump into the fray where Lincoln was still fighting, freeing him to come with me.

  ‘Where were you?’ he asked as we ran up the stairs.

  ‘Dealing with Academy politics,’ I replied.

  On the low rooftop – and neighbouring rooftops along the river – the nature users continued to fight the storm, calling on their strengths and pushing back with all they had, but the hurricane was just too powerful.

  At the front, calling out orders and holding the weight
of the wind, stood Phoenix, looking every bit the unearthly creature he was. His black shirt was ripped and flying in the air. Wind encased him and I gasped.

  ‘He’s channelling the hurricane. Pulling the power to him and trying to send it back out to sea.’

  ‘It’ll tear him in two!’ Lincoln yelled as we watched Phoenix’s body being brutally lashed by invisible whips of air. Zoe stood beside him, her focus on the rising river. It had already lifted over the levies and was now pouring into the city streets even as she and those beside her worked at creating new currents to send it away.

  I looked around frantically. We were heavily outnumbered; there were at least twice as many exiles to our Grigori. My knees weakened at the thought.

  Lincoln grabbed my shoulders to steady me.

  ‘What now?’ he screamed over the wind and rain, over the cries of madness below.

  I turned and ran towards Phoenix, getting as close as I could before the wind pushed me stumbling back. I regained my balance and screamed his name as I felt Lincoln behind me.

  Phoenix turned slightly, his shoulders sagging in relief as he kept the winds rippling and swirling around him. He knew where I’d been; that Sammael had been defeated.

  ‘You need to leave!’ I screamed, pushing closer again.

  ‘A little busy right now!’ he called back, somehow managing a small smile.

  ‘Phoenix, look at me!’ I cried.

  He glanced over briefly, his strained expression filled with knowing. There was blood running from his ear and down his neck.

  Jesus, how much more of this can he take?

  ‘You always worried you were becoming a new kind of angel, but can you finally see?’ he called out. ‘You were always becoming the best kind of human.’ His eyes met mine, and for a few magical beats all the mayhem around us went away and his calm brown eyes met my hazel ones and understanding passed between us. He knew what I was going to do.

  ‘This is your destiny!’ he yelled.

  Tears fell and I shook my head. ‘There’s still time! You can get away,’ I called out, ignoring Lincoln, who had braced my shoulders from behind as if he knew I might do something crazy.

 

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