by D. Laine
But Sadie was okay. She had survived Dylan’s possession, unlike Marcus.
Unless . . . she wasn’t okay?
Sadie’s eyes suddenly snapped to mine, and I knew she really saw me this time. “Take care of my brother. He’s still there. He just needs some help finding his way back, but I think you can do it. Love can fix anything. Help him, and tell him it’s okay, and I’m doing this because I want to, and not because I have to. Tell him how much I love him.”
“Sadie, I don’t understand what—”
She suddenly turned and walked toward the tunnel. I stared at her retreating back, unable to move, unable to stop her. The same invisible force from before weighed down my legs, rendering them worthless. I opened my mouth to call after her, and the air was sucked out of me. I gulped futilely, unable to fill my lungs with oxygen.
I could only watch as Sadie walked away from me and into the orb of white light that waited for her. It pulsed around her as she approached the tunnel. Finally, mere steps from the entrance, the light surged and rolled forming a ball that resembled a small white sun around her.
My eyes squeezed shut against the sudden brightness. Even then, I saw the blast through my eyelids and I felt the power it released. Hot air slammed into me, forcing me to the ground once again. The light vanished before I hit. I rolled over, sucking in large gulps of air, as I searched for any sign of Sadie.
Unlike the last two times this happened, my ears worked fine. Better than fine. I heard the crinkling of fallen leaves beneath me and the swish of my coat as I got to my knees. Other than my own labored breaths, I was surrounded by silence.
No black clouds poured from the tunnel’s opening. The ground no longer shook. The suffocating sense of evil in the air had vanished. The gate was closed, buried under a pile of concrete and stone. Sadie was gone.
I recalled her parting words to me.
Our energies are connected . . .
Their power flows through me . . .
I knew, without a doubt, that the Watchers had manipulated her. They had used her connection to Dylan to convince her to sacrifice herself, just as they would sacrifice Dylan.
He’s still there . . .
She had communicated with him right before she walked toward the light. I truly believed that, and if what she said was correct, then she had sensed Dylan—not only the Watcher who took him. He was more than a shell. He was in there, somewhere, and he needed help finding his way out. I could still save him.
Once I determined where he had gone.
Considering the silence, I doubted he had found Lucifer yet. I was faced with the impossible task of finding two needles in a haystack unless—
Something snapped in the distance, similar to a thunderclap. Seconds later, I heard a crash that sounded like a tree toppling over. Then another. Peering at the massive trunks on either side of me, I determined it was not likely a coincidence. Something strong was knocking hundred-year-old trees over on the other side of the highway.
It sounded like a good place to start looking for my Watcher-possessed boyfriend.
28
DYLAN
Lucifer stalked through the forest, approaching me with missile-like precision. I glimpsed the smooth lines of his perfect, glossy face and his laser-focused, hollow eyes, and a rage-induced tremor shot through me.
I should have known. Of course, he was Lucifer’s vessel. The man I hated—apparently for good reason—but formed a reluctant allegiance with. He had deceived me.
My lips twisted into a leer. “Ewing.”
My anger came from somewhere deep within, from a place I barely recognized anymore. An invisible force within me pulsed and strengthened, pushing my innermost thoughts aside until my anger was no longer my own. I was no longer myself. I had been reduced to a mere shell with only one purpose: to destroy Lucifer.
His hands flew into the trunk of a tree in his path with an ear-splitting crack. I glanced up as the top-heavy pine toppled over. It was intended for me, but I was faster now, and stronger. I was untouchable. Lucifer was a fool for thinking he could defeat me by tossing mere saplings at me. I sidestepped the massive weapon, cleanly evading its many tendril-like branches, and leveled my focus on him.
“You will fall today, beast,” I told him. There was no need to yell. Despite the distance between us, I knew he heard me.
“You are a disgrace,” he growled, closing the distance between us with long, even steps. The ground trembled under his weight. “Even more so than I.”
I started toward him. “We are both hungry for power, brother. There is no harm in getting what we want from this place.”
“I wanted it first!” His fisted hand shot out to snap the trunk of another tree. It swayed unsteadily above us, drawing some of my attention, as Lucifer continued his advance. “You and your brethren are merely attempting to cash in on my success. I put in all the work! I did this! Me!”
Behind me, a fire sparked to life—a byproduct of Lucifer’s rage. I sniffed the gray smoke and stepped away from the growing heat, but did not show fear. I had none. He could burn the forest down around me, and I still would not fear him. But I had to respect him for what I knew he was capable of. Come tomorrow, this forest would be no more. Much like Salt Lake City and Las Vegas and San Francisco . . .
I had to give Lucifer credit where it was earned. He had succeeded in bringing the world to its knees. But the survivors had flocked into our waiting arms. The Watchers offered them reprieve, and they would soon be ours. Not his.
“None of this will be yours,” I told him.
His lips curled, and his deep growl vibrated the air around me. “We shall see about that.”
We flew at each other simultaneously. My weapon of choice was a long, sharp blade. Though not lethal to either of us, it would debilitate him long enough for me to tear his heart from his chest and send him back to Hell where he belonged.
He deflected my first swing with a blade of his own. Smaller, shorter. But he had two of them. And he had a lot of rage on his side. “You will die today, traitor!”
His strength momentarily overpowered me, sending me hurtling backwards through the air. The ground splintered under the force of my impact. Trees toppled and boulders crashed down the steep slope of the mountain behind me. Lucifer closed the distance as I got to my feet.
I greeted him with a powerful swipe of the blade. He rolled his head, narrowly avoiding a well-aimed strike. I followed with a kick to the stomach that launched him into the tree behind him. Both crashed to the ground, the force widening the narrow fissure at our feet.
Lucifer stood to face me. We eyed each other, both calculating our next move. Equally matched, we both knew this battle could go on for an eternity.
The corner of his mouth suddenly lifted a fraction. I recognized the look of deception, but it was too late. Sharp pain exploded in my calf, forcing me to take my eyes off of Lucifer. Glancing down, I saw one of his worthless pets clawing its way up my leg.
I kicked, tossing the small, winged creature to the ground, and speared its scaly skin with the blade. I looked up to see the flash of Lucifer’s knives as they swung for my head. I dropped to a crouch, simultaneously slicing him across the middle. He hardly flinched from the pathetic mortal weapon. His arms caught me, and we both went down to the ground.
The earth quaked from the force of our bodies. Dirt and rock crumbled beneath us as we twisted and rolled across the forest floor, each taking turns in power. Each going for the heart, and missing. With every tumble, and powerful tremor, the chasm beneath us grew. It became a third participant in this battle. One wrong move, and the earth would swallow us both.
It was that concern that allowed him to gain the upper hand at the inopportune moment. A large chunk of earth gave way at the same instant Lucifer swung me around, pinning me on my back. He held me by the neck, with my upper body suspended over the deep chasm and my feet digging into the solid ground beneath him, futilely searching for something to anchor myself onto
.
The smirk on his lips said it all. His moment had come. He knew he had won. His hot breath fanned my face as he growled, “You lose, Watcher.”
Over his shoulder, two lesser demons stalked closer before sitting on their haunches to await their master’s command. Neither saw the dark-haired girl step out of cover behind them. The abomination, the one my body involuntarily reacted to before the force inside of me shut it down, streaked toward us.
Her blades led the charge, slicing through the lesser demons effortlessly. Lucifer’s face twisted with disgust as he looked away from me. Head turned over his shoulder, he snarled at the distraction neither of us had anticipated. I would be the one to capitalize on it.
One arm snaked around his neck, securing me to him, while the other shot toward his chest. My fist crushed through inches of packed muscle and bone before finding his heart. With a roar of victory, I severed him from his lifeline.
Human eyes met my gaze. For a brief moment, before death claimed him, he was no longer Lucifer, but a mere vessel. As his dead weight began to push me down, I planted a foot into his stomach and hurled him over top of me. I rolled onto my stomach to watch as his body plummeted into the chasm, and tossed his heart in after him. The ground closed around him, its seams coming together with a slight tremor.
Lucifer gone, I stood and turned to face the abomination that stupidly waited behind me. A ripple of remorse coursed through me before the force snuffed it out. I had no room for guilt, or second guesses.
The abomination had to die.
29
THEA
“Oh, shit.”
Weapon held out in front of me, acting as a buffer, I retreated from the Watcher who looked like, but was most definitely not, the man I loved. With Lucifer gone, or so I assumed since the ground ate him, I was now the Watcher’s target. Iridescent white eyes zeroed in on me, forcing me to shrink backwards. Tripping over the dead little demons in my way, I nearly impaled myself.
The Watcher closed some of the distance, but I kept backpedaling, staying out of its reach, until I smacked, rear end first, into the smoldering remnants of a tree. Heat scorched my back, and I was pretty sure my coat started to melt. Despite the danger, I didn’t dare shift away from the tree.
I couldn’t. The Watcher stood in the way, so close that I felt his breath on my skin and smelled the hint of man that was undeniably Dylan. I had to remind myself that it was not him. Not really. With nowhere to go, and no way to get out of this, I braced for the Watcher’s move.
Nothing came. He merely . . . watched me with eyes of the purest white I had ever seen.
Feeling empowered by his lack of action, I lifted a hand. The white in his eyes swirled like tiny storm clouds as I put my fingers to the hard planes of his face. He didn’t so much as flinch from my touch.
I couldn’t help but wonder how much of what I saw now was Dylan, and how much was Watcher.
Releasing a breath, I whispered, “Dylan?”
His head tilted ever so slightly, and his lips parted. When he finally spoke, his voice was unfamiliar and monotone. “He is gone.”
“No.” I refused to believe that, even for a moment. If anyone could bring him back, it was me. Sadie had said so. I caressed his jaw with my fingers, and spoke directly to him. “You’re still in here. I know it.”
Moving too fast to see, his hand closed around my wrist. I hissed at the sudden pain that exploded up my arm. The Watcher smirked, reminding me that it was still very much in control of Dylan’s body at the moment.
Then he tossed me. Hard and far. My shoulder landed on something rigid and pointy, and an involuntary scream ripped from my throat. Then the Watcher was there, towering over me with a leer. His face lowered to mine, and his fingers curled around my throat, abruptly cutting off my pained cry.
My mouth opened in search of air, but I got nothing.
I knew then that this was where it would all end for me. In a charred forest somewhere in Colorado. It was funny, in a way, the things that I thought of now. About how I had always wanted to go to Colorado, to capture the Rocky Mountains on film. I didn’t have my camera, but I had a nice view of them over the Watcher’s shoulder as he snuffed out my life.
I also got to see Dylan’s face right up until the end, even if it was cold and hard . . . and technically the face of my killer. But I loved him. I always would.
I put a shaky hand to his chest, directly over his heart. Deep down, I knew Dylan would feel it and know that I didn’t blame him for this. It was my fault, really. I had not given the Watchers the credit they demanded. I had believed I was enough, that love was enough to fight them. I was wrong, and I would die for that mistake.
The fingers around my neck flinched. Barely. Just enough to permit me a raspy breath that would only extend my suffering. Or allow me to pull off a miracle.
I used every bit of that breath I had left with the hopes that I was deserving of that miracle now. “Dylan?”
The Watcher winced. His grip around my throat loosened fractionally.
“I . . . love . . . you.”
The white swirls in his eyes surged, then faded. Surged, then faded. Something was happening, and though I had no idea what, I knew I had to keep trying to reach Dylan.
“You’re in there.” My voice couldn’t rise above a whisper, but he heard me. The grunt that passed his lips told me he had. “Fight, Dylan. Please.”
His arms trembled, and his fingers seized around my neck once more. Just before his thumbs pressed down on the hollow in my throat, I tried one last time.
“I love you.”
The whites in his eyes flashed, and something cracked. It could have been my vertebrae, or a bolt of lightning. I felt numb from the shoulders down, so I assumed he had broken me. The Watcher had regained control, and he would finish me off.
Dylan was gone, and so was I.
But I was not alone. Even as the veil of endless darkness crept closer, I felt a familiar tickle in my head.
Jake. He was awake. He was okay. He was coming.
Only I knew he would never make it in time. He was too far. He couldn’t save me.
I should have known better than to doubt my brother. Because suddenly, he was there. He wasn’t an apparition. He was as real as the gun in his hand.
My lips parted, and if I could have breathed, I would have screamed. I would have told Jake to stop. To wait until I was dead, because I couldn’t live with the memory of watching Dylan die instead of me.
No sound came out of my mouth.
The roar of a single gunshot blast shattered the silence.
Only then did the blackness claim me.
30
DYLAN
The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the image of a dog’s reproductive anatomy plastered to the wall above my head. The inside of my eyelids grated like sandpaper when I blinked, and my throat burned when I swallowed. But none of that had anything on the piercing pain between my shoulder blades. With nothing but the stiffness of my limbs to go by, I concluded I had been laid up on this cot for quite some time.
I hissed through the pain as I rolled my head. The room was dark, but the familiar smell of wet dog and the peculiar surroundings told me I was in the veterinary hospital. Somehow, because I sure as hell didn’t remember how that happened. Behind me, the same old lantern cast the same orange glow, and I saw that I wasn’t alone. Leaning forward on a stool a foot away, with his expectant eyes on me, sat Jake.
A vivid memory slammed into me. My voice came out thick and raspy when I said, “You shot me.”
He nodded, but offered no response.
“Shouldn’t I be dead?”
Jake wordlessly reached down to the floor, produced a bottle of water, and held it out to me. I eagerly put it to my lips, gulping the liquid to extinguish the fire in my throat.
My voice was still thick, but less raspy, when I managed to speak again. “Jake, what happened?”
He didn’t answer me right away. Inst
ead, he withdrew a gun from behind his back. I recognized it as the one Anderson had given him. He had given me a similar one. Both were meant to be used on Watchers, to kill Watchers.
I watched with interest as Jake opened the chamber and removed one of the bullets. He held it between his fingers for me to see.
“Remember how we wondered what made these so special?” I nodded, and Jake leaned forward like he had a secret to tell me. His voice lowered. “Well, I found out.”
I waited. He sat back in his seat, and still I waited. I finally shook my head. “Aren’t you going to tell me?”
He peered at me. “Don’t you think you should have figured that out by now?”
“What the fuck, Jake? I’m not in the mood for this,” I grumbled. “I just got shot, my entire body hurts, and I—”
“You’re you, in case you haven’t noticed,” he informed me calmly. “Your Watcher is gone, or did you think this whiny pussy talking now was him?”
I jerked straight up, and immediately regretted it. I collapsed back onto the cot, and tried to remember how to breathe through the pain.
“Easy, Dylan.” Jake’s hand came down on my shoulder.
“Fuck you,” I gritted. When I finally managed to look at him again, he was smiling. “What the fuck are you so happy about, jackass?”
His smile widened. “You’re back.”
I breathed in. Out. Controlled. But barely. I needed some goddamned answers. Soon.
“Jake, what happened?”
“Well . . .” He leaned back in his seat with a sigh like he was preparing to regale me with a long story. “I guess it all started when I woke up in this room a few days ago. I shocked the hell out of Doc, since I probably should have been dead. Anderson came in, took one look at me, and figured it all out.”
I stiffened. “Anderson—”
Jake’s hand came down on my arm, stilling me before I tried to move. “It’s alright. He helped me. He helped us. We’re safe with him. Trust me.”
