The Daughter of Zion

by Elicia Hyder

  Anya was weighing the decision. “Can I come back?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  Anya looked at Fury with a hint of an excited grin. “It would be fun to fly.”

  Fury pulled her into a hug. “You’ve never needed wings to fly. Go, but don’t stay gone too long.”

  Tears sparkled in Anya’s eyes when she stepped back. “I promise.” Anya walked up onto the steps, and she shuddered when she passed into the light. She rubbed her bare arms. “Goosebumps.”

  “I want to hear all about it,” Fury said.

  I looked down at her. “You know I’ve been there too?”

  Nathan smirked. “Like the two of you ever talk.”

  Everyone laughed.

  After that, we all said our goodbyes. I promised Alice I’d visit soon and asked her to look after Skittles.

  “What do we do about him?” Iliana asked, pointing at the Morning Star, floating in the air. “We can’t kill him. At least not until we’re sure that all the Claymore troops have been healed.”

  “That could take years,” Kane said.

  The Father looked at the Morning Star. So much was loaded in that glance.

  Anger.

  Disappointment.

  Love.

  “You don’t have to kill him at all,” he finally said. “He created his own hell, and now he can spend the rest of eternity wallowing in it.”

  La Isla del Fuego.

  I saw the great sword come down from Eden,

  having the key to the bottomless pit.

  And he laid hold of the dragon

  when a thousand years had expired.

  The devil that deceived them

  was cast into his lake of fire

  and tormented day and night for ever and ever.

  “Secure him well, and take him through the spirit line,” the Father said to Azrael.

  Azrael bowed his head.

  The Father stared at Az for a long moment. “Azrael, come here.” He stretched out his hand.

  Azrael looked at it and then looked at his kids and Adrianne. “Father, I’m mortal.”

  “Do you think I’ve forgotten?”

  “I can’t leave my family,” Azrael clarified.

  The Father reached farther. “There are some perks to being me. Come.”

  Azrael put his daughter down, and she immediately ran into Taiya’s arms.

  Azrael looked worried as he stood in front of the staircase, but he placed his hand in the Father’s and stepped into the light.

  His knees wobbled. I knew the feeling he was experiencing well. Absolute ecstasy.

  The Father opened his palm, and the Morning Star’s dagger materialized in it.

  Azrael’s smile faded.

  “This took something from you,” the Father said quietly.

  Azrael didn’t respond, but his shoulders withered enough to confirm the statement for all of us. I had no idea what the Father was talking about. There were never any memories in Azrael’s blood stone about a dagger.

  Holding the dagger by the blade, the Father offered it to Azrael.

  Azrael took a step back.

  “Do you trust me?” the Father asked.

  Looking at him, Azrael took a deep breath, and with a reluctant swallow, he took the knife.

  A surge of energy passed from the Father, through the dagger, and into Azrael’s hand. A smoldering edge of energy burned all the way up his arm and neck and through his torso until it disappeared behind his back.

  Light ruptured from behind Azrael’s shoulders.

  Wings.

  Azrael crumpled to a knee in front of the Father as the wings spread wider than the Eden steps. He was crying, something I don’t think I’d ever seen before.

  The Father touched Azrael’s head. “I love you, my son. Welcome back.”

  Chapter Thirty

  La Isla del Fuego was crawling with scientists—and reporters—when Azrael and I crossed the spirit line with our prisoner. We’d seen them from inside the breach, so we warped into a deserted edge of the jungle.

  “I guess a surprise volcano is a bigger deal than we thought,” I said, peeking out through an elephant-ear plant to count the humans present. Nineteen. “Do you remember being here at all?” I asked my father.

  “Flashes. I’ve missed most of the past couple of decades,” he answered.

  I looked over my shoulder. “You and me both.”

  “What now?” he asked.

  “Well, we can’t exactly walk out there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we’re carrying a man wrapped up like a safety-yellow burrito.”

  “Then what do you want to do?”

  I grinned back at him. “I kinda want to fly out there and say, ‘Hark! Fear not!’”

  With a laugh, he rolled his eyes. “We do not say that.”

  I straightened and turned around. “Then why don’t you show me how it’s done.”

  He smirked and drew the sword Reuel had given him before he returned to Eden. “Take notes, kid.”

  Without another word, Azrael launched straight up into the air. When he rose out of sight, I turned back to the Morning Star, who was sitting upright on the ground, confined to a military-grade restraint system.

  His legs were wrapped in padding and secured with Velcro straps all the way up from his ankles to his hips. His wrists were cuffed in high-Z and chained to his ankles. His mouth was wrapped with about nineteen layers of duct tape.

  I crossed my arms as I stood over him. “Bet you’ve seen him do this a million times.”

  The Morning Star just glared at me.

  It was early in the morning in the Philippines, but the sky suddenly went dark. “Oh, here we go.” I pushed apart the plants to look out toward the lake.

  Azrael slowly descended from the sky. Like his clothes, his wings were solid black. He held the sword with both hands, straight up and down in front of him, as he lowered toward the lake of fire.

  Everyone on the ground was either running away or pointing. One guy was filming it with his cell phone.

  Azrael flipped the sword around, aiming the blade toward the crowd, and sent a ripple of golden sparks through his wings.

  The gawkers took off then. All except the one man with his cell phone. Azrael dove toward him, and I’m pretty sure the man shit himself as he scrambled across the field.

  Azrael landed a few feet from where I stood. “Why the hell would I say fear not?”

  I laughed and lifted the Morning Star using my power. “You know that’s gonna wind up on YouTube,” I said as we walked toward the lake.

  “Is YouTube still a thing?”

  “Beats the hell out of me.”

  The sun was still covered in black, which was probably a good thing. Darkness could keep even the bravest of humans away. We climbed the hill where my empty-grave marker overlooked the lake.

  “Why don’t you let me take it from here?” I asked.

  Demon or not, Azrael had raised Michael as his son.

  “I helped start this. Now I’m going to finish it.” He looked down at the Morning Star. “Any last words?”

  The Morning Star mumbled furiously against the duct tape.

  Az cupped a hand around his ear. “Nothing? Okay then.” With a guttural scream, Azrael hurled the demon into his lake.

  The sky was dark back in Asheville, but only because it was nighttime. The grounds of Echo-5, however, were lit up like the Fourth of July.

  Red and blue emergency lights flashed everywhere as the entire property was overrun with official-looking vehicles. Only one of them I saw was marked Buncombe County Sheriff. Most of the rest were unmarked. Some had acronyms I’d never even seen before.

  Azrael and I were inside the breach, watching the chaos through the veil. “What the hell is all this?” I asked.

  “I’ll bet they’ve come for me.” His tone was heavy and full of guilt.

  “Maybe you should lie low for a while. Maybe even hide out in Eden unt
il shit here blows over.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not running away. Michael was my responsibility. And the things he did, he did in my name. Maybe if I hadn’t been such an arrogant prick, some of this could have be avoided.”

  “Az, this is serious. They’ll take you to prison. Or they might just execute you and bury you at sea like Bin Laden.”

  “I know.”

  He crossed through the breach first with a thunderous boom. I followed him right into the center of the lawn.

  All guns—a lot of them—turned in our direction.

  Near the parking lot, Nathan was in handcuffs. So was everyone I could see wearing a Claymore uniform.

  Sloan ran toward us, right into the line of fire. “Thank God you’re back!”

  “What’s going on?” I asked, grabbing her and turning so I was between her and the guns.

  “Every law-enforcement agency in America is here. Local, state, federal. They say a helicopter is on its way from Washington.”

  “Why is Nathan in handcuffs?” Azrael asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “You know he can’t keep his mouth shut.”

  A team of officers were having a frantic discussion in a huddle. Then, suddenly, they broke and stormed toward us. Gunmen, some with handguns, others with assault rifles, rushed Azrael and took him to the ground.

  Another team escorted a man in a suit forward. “Are you Damon Claymore?”

  Azrael didn’t fight back as they cuffed him at gunpoint. He could easily break the restraints, but he didn’t. “I am.”

  The man was searching the sky, probably trying to figure out where the hell we had come from and what the noise had been.

  “Damon Claymore, you are under arrest for acts of domestic terror—”

  Whomp. Whomp. Whomp…

  Lights flashed in the sky as a helicopter approached. It was a big one, making the Claymore transporter parked on the lawn, look like a toy.

  Soldiers cleared the field for the aircraft to land. In the dark, it looked a bit like Marine One.

  The helicopter of the president of the United States.

  No way.

  The engine stopped, and as the rotors slowed, a whole new group of soldiers poured out of it.

  Yep. Marines.

  I didn’t even know who was currently president.

  A man walked down the steps, buttoning his suit jacket. He crossed the lawn toward us, but he didn’t have the gait of a politician.

  My eyes narrowed when he was close enough to see his face. “Enzo?”

  “Hello, Warren.”

  “Holy shit.” I’d never seen Enzo in anything but cargo pants. “Are you the president now?”

  Enzo laughed. “No, not even close. But I am the head of Homeland Security, and I got word today that some of my old friends might have blown up the city of Asheville.” He scowled at my dad. “Hi, Damon.”

  Sloan grabbed his arm, eliciting quick movements from the soldiers surrounding us. Enzo raised a hand to hold them off. “Enzo, you know who was responsible for this. It wasn’t Az.”

  He patted her hand. “I know. Still, we need to take Mr. Claymore in. He has a lot to answer for.”

  “I’ll go quietly,” Azrael told him.

  Adrianne and her kids came over. “What’s happening? Why are you in handcuffs? Where are they taking you?”

  “You’re going away again?” Little Sloan asked.

  Azrael got down on his knees in front of her. “Daddy has to go for a little while, but don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “But we just got you back,” she whined with the most pitiful face I’d ever seen.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Are you going to fly in that helicopter, or are you going to fly with your new wings?” The little girl flapped her arms.

  He smiled. “Probably in the helicopter.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “This time.”

  She giggled.

  He stood and kissed his wife. “I’ll be OK.”

  “You’d better be, or I’ll kill you,” she said.

  He smiled and kissed her again. Then he looked at his son. “I love you, Philip. Take care of your mother and sister.”

  “I will, Dad.”

  Enzo put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll get things sorted out.”

  I shook his hand. “It hasn’t been the same, not having you around.”

  He lowered his voice. “You’d better be glad I’ve been exactly where I am.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Where’s Michael?”

  “Dead. Sort of.”

  “Do you have a body?”

  I shook my head.

  “We’re going to have to hang this on somebody.”

  “Just make sure it isn’t Az.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Enzo looked at his men holding Azrael. “Bring him with us.” As they walked toward the helicopter, he shouted to the group guarding Nathan. “Let him go!”

  Enzo and Az loaded into the helicopter with the Marines, and its engine started again.

  Nathan was rubbing his wrists as he walked over to join us. “How the hell did we get that lucky?”

  I looked toward the auranos, which was barely visible now, just past twilight. “I don’t think luck had anything to do with it.” I put my arm around Fury’s shoulders. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, are you?”

  I pressed a kiss against her temple. “Baby, I’m better than I’ve ever been.”

  Smiling, she clutched the front of my shirt.

  “It’s done?” Nathan asked.

  Adrianne was staring at me.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” I said.

  “No. Talk about it now.” She looked at her son. “Philip, take your sister back to the bunker. Go in through the garage. The other entrance is too dangerous.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He reached for little Sloan’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go find Taiya.”

  When they were out of earshot, I nodded. “It’s finished.”

  “Michael’s dead?” Adrianne asked.

  “Not exactly, but he’s never coming back. The lake closed up before we left the island. It’s not even there anymore.”

  “Where’d it go?” Nathan asked.

  I lifted my shoulders. “Beats me. Hopefully, somewhere far, far away. Where is Iliana?”

  “Dealing with Torman,” Sloan said. “The Father asked her to strip him of his powers and set him free. He’ll live out his days like a mortal.”

  “She can do that?” I asked, surprised.

  “Apparently, she can do a lot of things,” Nathan said as we all started back toward the garage. “Kinda wish I’d stepped into that magical light myself.”

  “You will, someday,” I said.

  Sloan stopped as we neared the building, or what was left of it, anyway. “I can’t believe it’s gone.”

  “I know. Where the hell are we going to live?” Nathan asked.

  Sloan looked up at him. “We’ll never hear the end of it if we keep Luca in the bunker much longer. I’ve only been back for a day, and if I hear about connection speeds one more time, I might shove spikes in my ears.”

  “Speaking of connection speeds, what happened to my communication tower?” Nathan’s hands were on his hips. “It was down when we got home yesterday, but there was so much shit going on I forgot to ask about it.”

  “Reuel did it,” I said without further explanation. Thankfully, Reuel wasn’t there to defend himself and incriminate me.

  Nathan swore under his breath.

  “What does it matter?” Sloan asked. “Echo-5 is gone. We have much bigger things to worry about.”

  “But all that power…”

  “Nathan, it looked ridiculous,” Adrianne said as we all started toward the garage again. “A thousand feet tall with only the top five percent covered with branches. It was never going to look like a real pine tree.”


  “You don’t know that. The other trees would have caught up eventually.”

  “Not in your lifetime,” she said.

  “Not even in mine,” I added with a laugh.

  Fury looked up at me. “What will happen with your lifetime now?”

  “As long as I stay here, I’ll continue to age as a human. Then someday, hopefully you and I will go to Eden together.”

  The sound of paper crackling caught my ear. I looked across the group as Nathan shoveled a handful of candy into his mouth. Midchew, he stopped and looked at the wrapper. “Wait a second,” he said around a mouthful.

  “What?” Sloan asked him.

  He turned the candy’s label toward me. “Did you name your dog after me?”

  I laughed.

  He swallowed and pointed at me. “You did! You named your dog Skittles!”

  “I did no such thing.”

  Fury leaned her head to the side. “The dog’s name is Skittles.”

  “Reuel named her. Not me.”

  “Warren, there’s no need to be embarrassed. You don’t have to lie!” Nathan came over and threw his arms around me. “You love me! You really love me!”

  Laughing, I pushed him away.

  “You want some?” he asked, holding up the bag.

  I turned over my palm. “I’d love some.” My stomach rumbled as he poured the colorful candies into my hand. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

  Fury plucked a green Skittle out of my hand. “Me either.”

  “I’m starving too,” Adrianne said.

  “You guys want to find some food?” Nathan asked.

  Sloan raised her hand. “I hear Tupelo Honey survived the apocalypse. Anyone up for cheese grits?”

  A Sloan McNamara Epilogue

  I knocked on the bedroom door again. “Nathan, what are you doing in there? Warren and Fury just pulled up the driveway.”

  Silence.

  I banged harder. “Nathan!”

  The door swung open so fast I jumped back a step. Then my eyes doubled as my husband racked a shotgun with one hand. I ran my hand down my face, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.”

  He stood there in nothing but a pair of tighty-whities and work boots. When he tried to pass me, I splayed my hand across his bare chest to stop him. “Oh hell no. You’re not leaving this room until you put on some pants. And put the shotgun back in the safe.” With both hands, I pushed him back inside. “What are you even trying to do here?”