by R. K. Ryals
“Yes,” the other man answered, his tall, auburn frame suddenly falling from the sky. It was so unexpected, I stumbled, fear clawing at my insides. “What a coincidence indeed,” he finished.
Luther grinned, the smile never reaching his eyes. “Seems you and I have some similar ambitions.”
Beez scowled. “No,” he took a step toward Luther, “we don’t. You want to rule Hell. I want to rule everything.”
Luther shrugged. “Fair enough. I guess I just don’t see the glamour in bringing angels into our world. You’re asking for trouble doing that, and opening yourself up to more aggressive power trips.”
Beez watched him. “Are you afraid of angels?”
“No,” Luther answered, “God, on the other hand, I’d like to keep as far as I can from my assets.”
Beez stalked Luther, circling him. “You’re weaker than you think you are, Thorne,” Beez snarled, using Luther’s demon name.
“Why don’t we test that theory,” Luther challenged.
“Oh no! Really?” a lyrical, female voice interrupted. A glowing shape, untouched by the raining blood, suddenly lowered from the sky. “It’s such a pity that you demons seem so willing to fight. Just kill somebody already.” The glow faded, revealing Sophia’s beautiful, porcelain face, her body enfolded in a flowing white dress.
Luther’s eyes narrowed. “You certainly like to dress the part.”
She smiled at him, her face doing that strangely disturbing emotional shifting it had done in the third level of Heaven. From surprised to happy to angry.
“Don’t underestimate me, demon,” she hissed.
“Oh, we’re not,” Marcas’s voice said abruptly.
My head shot up to find Lucas and Marcas hovering above us, their blood-smeared faces hard.
“You’ve been a very naughty little girl,” Lucas sneered.
Sophia’s face went through a myriad of emotions so quickly it was hard to pin them down, her frantic eyes focusing on Marcas.
“My love,” she breathed.
“Sophia,” Beez warned next to her.
She ignored him. “I’ve fallen,” she called out. “I’ve fallen, and I plan to bring Heaven down with me. We can make the past right, Marc. I was wrong. We can make it work. We can be together.”
Anger made my blood boil, but I stood my ground, my gaze on the scene before me.
Marcas frowned. “Sophia, I should have never asked you to make that choice,” he said slowly. “It was unfair of me then, and it wouldn’t be right for me to do it now. There’s no winning against the Almighty. You know that.” He glanced at Beez. “The Demon of Envy has fooled you into thinking otherwise, and while God will be able to squash your uprising, Envy will use it to advance his position in Hell while taking a lot of innocent mortal lives with him.”
Sophia’s face twisted, confusion replaced by anger. “No,” she protested. “Don’t you get it? I’m doing this for you.”
Pity crossed Marcas’ features. He blamed himself for this. He blamed himself for what was happening to Sophia and what had happened to me. All he’d ever wanted was love, and he’d fallen for the wrong creatures both times. First an angel and then a naphil, both with divine blood. Now, his first love had fallen from grace, and he was afraid his second love was going to damn her human soul.
“Please,” Sophia begged, her face falling.
The sight was so disturbing that the entire battlefield fell silent, all eyes on Sophia. Even Luther had no sarcastic rejoinder. The strange flicker of emotions, the begging, and her glowing figure made for a sad sight.
Despite everything she’d done to me, despite everything she’d let be done to me, I still felt pity, my heart clenching.
Marcas floated down, pausing just above her. “Soph,” he whispered. “This is wrong. I want to fix it. Being with you won’t do that, but coming with me might.”
Sophia recoiled, her face turning ugly. “No!” she shouted. “I hate you!” She sobbed, tears suddenly replacing the anger. “I did this for you!”
“Soph—” Marcas tried again.
Sophia stiffened. “It’s her, isn’t it? That little bitch!”
Gasps met her tirade, the curse word falling from her mouth more disturbing than any of the expressions that had crossed her face.
“Sophia,” Marcas warned.
“It is, isn’t it?” She turned, her gaze falling over the yard, her anger a potent entity.
She was going to kill me to rid the world of the girl who’d given up everything to love the man she loved.
She was going to kill me, but when her gaze met mine, I was ready.
Chapter 20
There’s a reason no supernatural entity should ever fall in love. Love is weakness. It destroys the mighty and turns monsters into terrible gods.
~Luther Craig, the Demon of Lust~
Marcas
As soon as Sophia’s gaze found Dayton, she lunged for her. My feet hit the ground, but Dayton was faster, the shield of light she’d learned to control years ago exploding outward. No matter how many times I saw it, the shield awed me. No one other than Dayton was able to create a sentient barrier like it. It was a naphil power that even full blooded angels couldn’t emulate.
Sophia charged into it, the barrier making her stumble. The light didn’t hurt Sophia the same way it did demons, but it did keep her from touching Dayton.
“Fight me!” Sophia yelled.
My heart hurt watching her. I’d turned her into this.
Inside her shield, Dayton approached her, her eyes sad. “I should want to kill you,” she said. “But I don’t.”
It was like a play unfolding on a field of battle, and no one, even the demons seemed to care to look away, as if they’d decided to call a temporary truce until they’d seen what would happen between the angels.
They were so different. Sophia was tall and golden, her eyes a blue so light they were almost white. Dayton was short, her frame diminutive, her hair red. It was as if, despite the angel blood in her veins, Dayton’s body wanted to rebel, to be as small and fiery as angels were tall and fair.
Sophia circled the shield of light, the anger in her eyes turning them dark. “Do not pity me!” she snarled.
Dayton’s eyes tracked her. “I do pity you because more than anyone else, I understand where you’re coming from.” She stepped forward cautiously, her eyes beginning to glow. “It’s easy falling in love with Marcas.” Her eyes found mine, our gaze catching, before she looked away. “Don’t turn this into a battlefield. Love is a beautiful thing, but it can be just as beautiful when it’s over. It’s beautiful because you got the chance to love. It’s beautiful because you got the chance to be happy.”
Sophia sneered. “You don’t know what it’s like seeing the person you love with someone else.”
Dayton shook her head. “No, I don’t, but I think I may have to learn how to.” Sophia’s head snapped up, and Dayton stared at her. “Angels and demons … it seems like a good idea, but then,” she waved her hands at the yard, at the blood and the death, “it turns into this.” She frowned. “Don’t you think it’s better to let love go than to watch innocents die because you couldn’t?”
Sophia winced. “You’re not a full angel,” she accused.
“No,” Dayton said, “I’m not. At the end of the day, you’ve always got that. You’ve got other angels to turn to, Fallen or otherwise. At the end of the day, it’s just me. That’s it. One naphil with a foot in two different worlds and no way to belong to either.”
Sophia’s face changed, her eyes flicking from one color to another, from blue to black to white. There was nothing Dayton could say to save her now, and I think in a way, she knew that. She just needed to say it for herself.
I nodded at Lucas, and he flew to the ground, the two of us trapping Sophia against Dayton’s shield. Dayton stared at the angel’s face where it was pressed against the light, at the desperation and loss in Sophia’s eyes, and with three words, Dayton made me fall in
love with her all over again. It only took three words, and it wasn’t, I love you.
As Lucas was pulling Sophia into his embrace, chanting in a language the Fallen used to bound those who had just plummeted from grace, Dayton said, “Don’t hurt her.”
Despite everything. Despite all of the pain Sophia had inflicted on her, she whispered, “Just don’t hurt her.”
My hand fell against Dayton’s light. It burned me even with our bond, but I didn’t care. Her palm met mine against it.
That was before the world caught on fire.
Chapter 21
When the world ends, there will be fire and brimstone, blood, and fear. When the world ends, there will chaos. When the world ends, the important thing to remember is to save the ones you love. Because when the world ends, there won’t be anything else left.
~Luther Craig, the Demon of Lust~
Dayton
Fire fell from the sky, and if it hadn’t been for my shield, I would have been covered by burning ash. As it was, screams surrounded me, and I beat against the barrier.
Marcas’ hand still rested against mine on the light wall, and he stared at me.
“Stay inside it!” he yelled.
Fire rained behind him, sparks hitting his body. It burned through his clothes, but didn’t touch his skin, the demon blood protecting him.
I screamed. I screamed, not because I was afraid, but because I had friends in the flames. I had mortal friends who’d be unable to survive it.
Marcas’ gaze drilled into mine. “Look at me, Dayton! Look at me, and don’t look away!” His other hand came up to rest against the shield. “They’re okay. They’re all okay. The fire can’t touch the hybrids. Luther has Monroe, and Conor can turn into stone. They are all okay.”
Behind me, the S.O.S. manor caught on fire, the debris inside the destroyed door igniting, sending flames into the interior, and I screamed louder.
Marcas’ forehead fell against the barrier, and I heard him whisper, “Dayton.”
It didn’t matter. I screamed because not all of my friends were supernatural. Some of them were human.
“God, I’m so sorry,” Marcas breathed, his face twisted in anguish.
My palms remained pressed against the barrier, as if letting go meant losing home.
Behind Marcas, the world was dying, raining fire and ash, burning everything. The smell of smoke assaulted my nostrils even through the barrier, and I choked on it. Smoke and tears.
In the chaos, there was a laugh, the sound low and full of glee.
My head shot up, revulsion filling my blood and igniting my ire.
“Beez!” I cried, my horror-struck eyes meeting Marcas’. “You’ve got to stop him! He’s going to go after the Spear of Destiny!”
Marcas stiffened. He knew I was right.
“Go!” I begged him. “Just go!”
He left me, because in the end, we knew it was more important for him to save the innocent than it was for him to remain with me.
As soon as he was gone, his large frame no longer between me and the world, there was nothing blocking me from the horror.
Fire fell like rain in strange droplets of orange flames, monsters and humans stumbling across the ground. Smoke rose up from the land, burning embers taking root in the grass and trees. Everything was ablaze. As for the armies surrounding us, only the mortals were on fire. This was worse than anything I’d ever seen in the fire pits of hell. In Hell, damned souls had been the figures burning in the pits. Here it was innocent lives.
For the first time in a long time, I prayed, falling onto my knees inside my barrier.
“Please,” I begged, my hands steepled. “Please.”
Someone stumbled into my barrier, a burning member of the S.O.S., his skin charred and peeling, his eyes full of horror. The stench of burning flesh assaulted me, and I gagged.
“Save me!” he rasped. His mouth opened, as if in a scream, but no sound came out, his voice gone as he slid down my wall.
I screamed for him, tears streaking down my cheeks, my eyes squeezed closed, my fingers clasped.
There was no more prayer. There was nothing except racking sobs, my mind yelling at the skies.
“Save them! Please save them!”
Chapter 22
In chaos, there is advantage. In chaos, there is hope for power. In chaos, there is devastation.
~Luther Craig, the Demon of Lust~
Marcas
I stumbled away from Dayton’s light, my gaze searching the flame-filled landscape. Fire dripped onto me, but I didn’t burn. It rolled down my flesh the same way rain would, singeing my clothes before hitting the ground.
“Marcas!” Luther yelled.
My head shot up, my gaze finding my brother flattened against the ground, his body covering Monroe’s prone form. His eyes were full of conflicted emotion.
“He’s already through the portal!” he called.
I nodded, my gaze catching his. Torment was the only way to describe what I saw in Luther’s eyes. He’d wanted the spear for himself. He’d wanted to use it to kill Lucifer and place himself on Satan’s throne. He’d wanted to defeat Beez. Instead, he’d chosen to protect Monroe.
“Just get the damn thing!” Luther hollered. “I’d rather bow down to Lucifer than to Beez!”
I went running, pulling on my inner darkness as I went, the power flowing down onto my skin. I was at the portal to my kingdom when Beez suddenly burst from it, his face twisted, his gaze searching the burning landscape.
His was frantic, and I knew from the way his reddened eyes glowed brighter that he was frustrated, his hand ducking through the portal and then reappearing.
“Couldn’t touch it?” I asked, stepping in front of him. The spear repelled demons.
Beez’s wild eyes found mine. “You bastard! You’re always there, you know that, Marcas Craig!” He advanced on me, but I stood my ground, the fire raining down around us. “First your bitch stopped me from killing you, and now you’ve had that bastard Fallen angel friend of yours bind Sophia!”
“It’s time to call this off,” I warned. “I’m sure by now Satan is very aware of your treason.”
Beez’s gaze met mine, and then slid away, his eyes passing over the yard to land on Dayton’s shining force field. She was crumpled within, a smoking body leaning next to it. Her hands were over her face, and my heart broke. So much pain.
“There’s still one person who can touch the spear,” he sneered.
I didn’t even give him the chance to move. Grabbing him by the throat, I leaned over him.
“You really think you can kill me?” he asked.
I chuckled, my face going blank. “Quit bluffing, you asshole. You know I can. I wasn’t offered the right hand of Satan for nothing.” With that, I slammed him into the ground, my stormy gaze on his. “This,” I said, “is for what you did to Dayton.” Ripping into my wrist, I held my free, bleeding arm over Beez’s face and forced his mouth open. I watched as he swallowed.
He glared. “When did feeding a demon blood become a punishment?”
I smiled. “When I was bound to a half-angel. For what you did to her, I hope her blood tears your insides to shreds.”
Beez’s eyes widened, realization dawning, his body beginning to convulse. I watched him, watched his agony, and I never took my eyes off of his face. I’d never felt so cold, so full of revenge. If only Dayton had been able to choose how he died.
Damn the fire! Damn the fire that I could live in, but she couldn’t walk among! Damn it all!
The bastard convulsed for a very long time, Dayton’s blood—and I suspect the godly blood in my own veins—causing his skin to bubble. Even with the stench, with the way his body started to ooze, I didn’t release him. I kept seeing Dayton’s swollen, bug infested body shackled in the third level of Heaven.
“And this,” I whispered, “is for my brother.” Releasing his neck, I plunged my hand into his chest, pulled out his heart, and crushed it.
I m
ay not trust my brother, I may not agree with his need for power, but Envy had been his enemy. That was enough for me.
Standing, I stalked across the yard, pausing next to Luther. “Take his kingdom while you can, brother. You’re going to have to wait on Lucifer’s.”
And then, I went after Dayton.
Chapter 23
The thing about power is that it doesn’t just fall into your lap. Although, occasionally it does fall just within reach. You can taste it, you can see it, and you can smell it. You just can’t get to it. There’s nothing worse than wanting something and knowing all you have to do is lean forward to grab it, except … you can’t.
~Luther Craig, the Demon of Lust~
Dayton
The charred body next to the barrier was pulled away, replaced by falling knees, and I looked up to find Marcas leaning against my shield, his weary face full of pain. Fire still rained around us.
“Is he—”
Marcas nodded.
Tears continued to streak down my cheeks.
Marcas touched my light. “I hate myself so much sometimes,” he said suddenly.
His words shocked me into silence, my sobs quieting.
“Not just because—in a way—this is all my fault, but because of who I am … period.” He looked at me. “The demon blood in me mixed with yours and God’s. The worst part is that it doesn’t matter that I have divine blood in my system. The demon blood still wins. The darkness overcomes it all.”
I crawled to the side of the wall, my face as weary as his. “No,” I said, my hand coming up to touch the barrier. “You’re wrong. You’re special, Marcas. You are. You didn’t choose your parentage any more than I chose mine.”
“Yours hasn’t hurt as many people.”
I stared. “Yes it has,” I said. “It’s hurt way too many. If I wasn’t a naphil, your brother Damon wouldn’t have wanted me, my mother never would have died, my aunt never would have been possessed, and my sister never would have been as emotionally scarred as she became.”
