Judgement Day

by J. E. Taylor

  Judgement Day © 2019 J.E. Taylor

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Cover Art by julienicholls.com

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  JUDGEMENT DAY | Fire Cursed Book 3 | J.E. Taylor

  JUDGEMENT DAY

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  About J.E. Taylor

  JUDGEMENT DAY

  Fire Cursed Book 3

  J.E. Taylor

  JUDGEMENT DAY

  Nothing is easy. Especially when your only choice is between death and never existing at all.

  Faith Kennedy faces the toughest challenge of her young life. She must hunt Lucifer and put him down at all costs, or otherwise the world will burn.

  But if she succeeds, she may wipe herself, and everyone she loves, out of existence.

  Chapter 1

  I stared at the deadliest weapon to ever touch mankind’s hands. It glowed, filling the cabin with a soft light that belied the danger it represented. Anyone I cut with the blade made of heaven’s light would cease to exist.

  No heaven. No hell. Just poof. Gone.

  It was a responsibility I did not want.

  I wanted to smash it to bits. To erase it from existence. But the knife was the only thing that would stop Lucifer. Not even the combined power of angel fire, my natural fire, and Tom Ryan’s powers could take out Lucifer. That would only serve to kill my boyfriend and send Lucifer’s spirit back to hell, where that bastard had the potential of escaping again.

  Plus, I didn’t think I could burn Lucifer while he was wearing Alex Ryan.

  So, this ungodly knife, forged in heaven by Lucifer himself, was the only hope of mankind.

  I still couldn’t believe I was contemplating killing my boyfriend. Patricide was bad enough, but killing Alex... I just couldn’t wrap my brain around that.

  The worst thing about the knife—no one knew how it worked because it had never been used before.

  There were two camps on the subject of what timeline heaven’s blade would destroy. The first group thought the knife would wipe the slate clean to the point before the person—or archangel in this case—came into existence. The other train of thought believed it would blink someone from existence from the point in time when the blade sliced into flesh.

  Either choice sucked.

  Wiping the slate clean meant Lucifer never existed. No hell. No monsters. No Ryans, and no me.

  But what exactly would remain? No one had a clue. It could be far better or infinitely worse. The thought of me blinking out of existence, along with Alex wasn’t as awful as it should have been given the circumstances.

  The second line of thought would mean I would kill both Alex and Lucifer in one thrust of the blade. Doing that would strip me of my soul. Anything good inside me would die with Alex. I was as sure of that as I was of the sun rising in the morning.

  Using this knife on Alex would make me lose my sanity. And who knows, in that kind of state, I could very well grant my father’s greatest wish and turn the world to ash.

  The monster wrapped in dog form on the ground huffed. I ignored him. I didn’t need Leviathan’s wisdom or his sarcasm right now.

  I stood and crossed to the alcove at the window, then took a seat on the comfortable bench cushion. He followed and jumped up, curling up on the other side of the window bench.

  “Just leave me alone.”

  “Not with your mind so clouded with darkness,” he muttered and sent me a sideways glare.

  I looked away. The lake outside the window didn’t have the same calming cadence of the ocean waves in Maine. It only served to make my nerves more jumbled. This cabin stood on sacred ground, and a part of me knew I shouldn’t be here. Not with Lucifer’s blood raging inside me.

  “Pft,” Levi huffed at me. “The Ryans share Lucifer’s blood, too, so you should not discount your inherent goodness based on who your biological father is.”

  It was my turn to scoff at him. I wasn’t inherently good. I was a walking fire hazard, and now I had this crazy level of power that wiped out an entire island.

  I climbed to my feet and left the cottage, closing the door on Levi. I needed to be alone. I needed to set my mind right, and I wasn’t going to get there with him staring at me like I was a wounded bird.

  I crossed to the gazebo and sat on the swing inside the wooden structure. The cabinet in my mind that Valerie had helped me lock up had many answers, but I was hesitant to open it. I didn’t want to be overwhelmed with thousands of years of memories and open all sorts of breaches again. But I knew if I didn’t take a look at the history I had, I wouldn’t be prepared to battle Lucifer.

  I needed to see his games. I needed to understand his strategies. I needed to know just how horrifying Lucifer was.

  It was chilly enough outside for me to shiver from more than just the thoughts flitting through my mind. Instead of going inside to grab a coat, I figured the caress of cold air might be good. It would keep my fire in check.

  I pushed off with my feet, letting the swing sway back and forth, and I closed my eyes, concentrating on shoring up my mind so this didn’t go haywire. I envisioned the file cabinets we made to organize the memories and knelt down in front of the one containing the oldest ones. The imaginary key appeared in my hand, and I unlocked the drawers that had the name Damian Andreas printed on the card.

  Perusing his memories was a delicate matter. It was as if I had stepped back to almost the dawn of time when the earth was lush and the deserts hadn’t fully formed in the Middle East yet.

  I scanned through memory upon memory of Damian’s, from vague images of his father, the archangel Gabriel, to the people who raised him. He even went to war with his comrade, but he was the only one to come back. His friend made Damian promise to take care of his wife, Athena, and his child before he died on the battlefield. Damian kept that promise, and Athena ended up being the love of Damian’s life, or at least of that life, before darkness befell him.

  And darkness came in the form of Lucifer because Athena was a Nephilim. She was Michael’s daughter, and heartbreaking was the only word for what Lucifer did to her. He made Damian watch as he tore Athena’s heart from her chest and ate it. Then he threw Damian into a pit of bloodthirsty monsters.

  Athena’s child had been visiting with family and survived to continue Michael’s bloodline, and luckily, Lucifer had no idea that Damian was Gabriel’s son, or he would have suffered the same fate.

  Still, being turned into a vampire wasn’t exactly the most humane choice. Damian survived the pit, and Michael pulled him from that living hell, giving him an ultimatum: keep his angelic bloodline safe or be smited on the spot. Obviously, he chose to b
e Michael’s bloodline protector.

  Michael was as fearsome as Lucifer, and until Damian met Naomi, he quaked every time Michael appeared.

  Damian came across Lucifer many times before Naomi, but it was usually from the shadows as he plotted his revenge against the dark lord. Naomi was never meant to be someone he fell for, she was just something Lucifer wanted, and Damian was hell-bent on destroying anything Lucifer coveted. Unfortunately, Damian didn’t know she was one of Michael’s descendants.

  Naomi was fearless, and when Damian bit her, she bit him back, turning herself into a vampire in much the same way Damian had been turned. If she had ever been afraid of Lucifer, she never showed it.

  I shook my head and refocused on Damian’s memories, putting my assessment of Naomi aside.

  Every encounter with my father was bloody and depraved. He certainly was a master at manipulation and torture. He wiped out entire families in an attempt to get what he wanted. He wanted trinity blood to build an army. Well, now he had more than just trinity blood. He had the entire host of angels.

  My stomach cramped with the thought, and tears covered my eyes. I blinked them away and leaned back, pushing the swing with my feet. The rocking sensation calmed my raw nerves.

  Michael Andreas probably would love to have his parents’ memories. Guilt bit at my insides, creating a web of bumps that spread over my exposed skin. I rubbed them away and ran my hands down my face.

  Well, maybe not all their memories. Some of the more intimate ones heated my cheeks, and I shuffled them back into the drawers when I encountered them.

  Valerie’s name came up in Damian’s history a few years before Naomi came into the picture. I took a closer look. Valerie was just a child when Damian met her. Unfortunately, after Naomi came into the picture, Lucifer learned of Valerie’s heritage as one of Michael’s descendants. She was also the reason the archangel Michael was vulnerable enough for Lucifer to strip his grace.

  Valerie had a fierceness to her that I was starting to be able to identify.

  Fierce bravery seemed to be something representative of Michael’s bloodline. As much as I didn’t want to put Grace in the same category, she certainly was fierce. However, I would not put her in the brave category at all. She was a coward of the worst kind.

  Irritation bloomed like it always did when Grace crossed my mind, and I had to shake it away and focus back on Damian’s memories. Unfortunately, she was a part of his history, so I couldn’t ignore her like I wanted to.

  But I still had some horrific memories to inspect before she came into their lives. Each encounter with Lucifer left me cold. He truly was warped and depraved, and the damage he was capable of produced a frightened shiver.

  I wrapped my arms around me tighter.

  I didn’t want to see Grace’s birth, but it was a significant day, one that was central to Tom and CJ entering the battle. It was also the first glimpse I had of Alex’s grandfather’s spirit. While I had his memories of when he was living, this was the first vision of him with his wings. Wings that matched those of CJ’s when he got angry.

  If Alex had an infusion of grace, would he end up with wings?

  I shook the thought away and refocused.

  Ty Ryan was even more intense than his son, CJ, and his expression as he glared at Lucifer chilled me. Ty’s memories were in my head, too, and the resemblance to Alex was even eerier than his resemblance to CJ. When a cocky smile formed on his lips, it was so similar to Alex’s that my chest squeezed.

  I closed my eyes, blocking the image. It hurt just as much as seeing CJ had.

  But this particular day was important to both the archangels and CJ’s father. It was the day his father lost his ability to leave Paradise Cove, along with Michael and Gabriel. Lucifer made a grand spectacle for the audience watching. He came out from Paradise Cove, where the battle had started, with both Michael and Gabriel’s heads in his bloodied hands.

  When Lucifer had his grace, he was more terrifying than anything I had encountered. I couldn’t imagine going against him fully charged, but that’s exactly what Damian and Alex’s grandfather did. The minute Lucifer tossed the heads onto the newly fallen snow, both of them left the sanctity of the warded cottage.

  Tom and CJ witnessed Lucifer tearing their father’s head clean off. I had both their memories layered together along with their emotions. The devastation CJ felt at watching his father decimated by Lucifer matched that of losing Tom.

  I took a slow breath, trying to calm the building dread wrapping around me. How was I going to beat him? I was only sixteen and had no defense training whatsoever. I didn’t even know how to use a knife beyond stabbing with the pointy end.

  I glanced at the house, and CJ stood in the bedroom window watching me. The knife glowed in his hand. I startled in the seat and then looked at the ground as heat filled my cheeks. I should have put that thing away somewhere, but I was too preoccupied with everything I needed to do.

  He put the knife on his dresser next to him. When he turned away from the window, I exhaled at my stupidity. If one of the kids had gotten ahold of that blade...

  I shivered and glanced back at the lake, resuming my inspection of their lives. I didn’t need to see anything more of Damian’s life. I knew how it ended, and again, it was related to the devil himself. I was tempted to sort through the cabinet that held CJ’s father’s memories, but I didn’t have time for that. I needed dirt on Lucifer.

  I closed and locked up Damian’s memories and moved on to CJ. While I was curious to see some things from his background, I didn’t bother. Everything before they met Damian and Naomi was moot. I needed to see what kind of damage Lucifer had done to them. I still didn’t have enough of a pattern to go by beyond his craving for destruction.

  CJ’s first encounter with Lucifer after the showdown with Damian left him in a coma for two years. But it was his next encounter that had me leaning forward in the swing with my hands clenched. Lucifer used CJ’s image to torture Valerie. That wasn’t the only time he used CJ’s image to torture those closest to him. My mind shuffled forward to a memory of a warehouse in New York City. Lucifer did the same thing to CJ’s father, and his father’s mind had fractured as a result.

  With Tom, Lucifer used his wife and child to get in his head and try to coerce him to give up his soul. Tom lost both of them to Lucifer’s wrath because he refused to play the game.

  I closed my eyes.

  Lucifer already had control of Alex’s form. This was his favorite modus operandi, and he was sure to dangle it in front of us in equally tormenting ways.

  He wanted to break CJ. That was a personal vendetta I was sure played into my father’s motivation. He didn’t need Alex to build an army, but it just made it much sweeter that Alex brought the missing archangel into the mix. It was a means to royally screw with CJ’s head.

  And then there was me.

  The daughter who chose the Ryans over her own father.

  Of course, my father just wanted me for a refueling station to get his revenge on the Ryan clan. I’m sure the fact that Tom gave me his grace in order to shut my father in hell just made him angrier.

  I was as much of a target as CJ, despite our blood bond. My father got off on torturing those he wanted to destroy, and I was now on his hit list.

  How the hell do I fight that?

  I stood up and crossed into the only portal to heaven on the entire globe. Paradise Cove. I licked my lips and glanced up at the sky.

  “Damian?” I whispered.

  The lake shimmered and fog rolled off it, creating an eerie atmosphere. A dark-haired man appeared. He looked like an older version of Michael Andreas, and he crossed his arms as he stepped out of the fog and onto the moss of Paradise Cove. He stared down at me, waiting for me to speak.

  This was the man who’d punched a hole in the devil’s chest and ate his heart. I shivered at the power and will that had taken. I knew firsthand it wasn’t easy.

  “How do I beat him?” I asked, looki
ng at the man who stole Lucifer’s grace.

  “Have you talked to CJ?” Although the timbre of his voice sounded like his son’s, his Greek accent threw me, but it made perfect sense given his upbringing.

  “He can’t deal with the idea of losing his son. Besides, he never truly beat Lucifer. He may have torn his head off and laid waste to his body with angel fire, sending him back to hell numerous times, but he didn’t kill him. Nor did he strip Lucifer of his grace, like you did.”

  Damian looked beyond me at the path, his expression brooding. When his gaze came back to mine, he nodded like he understood, and I suspected he probably did in light of recent events.

  He looked out over the cove with a frown and a crease between his brows. He closed his eyes and tightened his fists, shaking his head. “I can’t believe my daughter made the choice to hand everything over to him. She knew how hard we fought against him so that this day would never come, and yet she just...” When his eyes opened, they were covered with a layer of tears that he blinked away. “If I had known all the destruction that he would cause...” He wiped his face and took a deep breath.

  I shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable under the strain of his voice. “There wasn’t anything you could have done,” I whispered.

  His bright gaze met mine. “You are his only obstacle left. Don’t let him win,” he added in a choked voice, and turned away.

  Nothing he’d said answered my question. It only served to strike more fear in the pit of my stomach.

  “But how do I beat him?” I asked again.

  “You already know how,” he said with his back to me. “Tom gave you the weapon. You just have to get close enough to your father to use it.”

  Chapter 2

  Great. Just another directive that left me with zero choice.

  I sat back down in the gazebo. The lightening sky did nothing for my mood. A new day, a new problem to figure out. Life marched forward despite the misery surrounding us, and it irked me.