End of Days (Penryn & the End of Days Series Book 3)

by Susan Ee

  The cult woman bows her head and kneels humbly in front of Paige. A part of me wants to leave, never knowing what’s about to happen. But another part of me wants to barge in between them and break it up.

  Something is going on with my mother’s full approval that definitely needs supervising. Are they trying to recruit Paige into a cult? I feel no guilt about spying right now. I’m normally big on privacy, but I just need to make sure that there’s nothing . . . well, crazy going on.

  “I am here to serve you, Great One,” says the woman.

  “It’s okay,” says Mom to Paige. “She volunteered. We have a whole line of cult members who volunteered. They know how important you are. They’re willing to make sacrifices.”

  I don’t like the word sacrifices. I rush over to them.

  Paige sits on a fallen tree, looking down at the woman now kneeling in front of her. The woman loosens her sheet and tilts her head to the side to expose her vulnerable neck.

  I stand frozen, taking in the scene. “What are you doing?”

  “Penryn, stay out of this,” says Mom. “This is a private affair.”

  “Are you offering her as meat?”

  “This isn’t like the other time,” says Mom. “She volunteered. This is an honor for her.”

  The cult member looks at me awkwardly with her head still tilted to the side. “It’s true. I have been chosen. I am honored to nourish the Great One who has resurrected the dead and will lead us to heaven.”

  “Who wants to go to heaven anymore? There’s nothing but angels there.” I look at her to see if she’s joking. “You actually volunteered to be eaten alive?”

  “My spirit will be renewed as my flesh nourishes the Great One.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I look back and forth between my mother, who is nodding seriously, and the woman, who must be on drugs or something. “What makes you think she’s the Great One anyway? The last time we were here, this camp tried to draw and quarter her.”

  “The doctor from Alcatraz has told Obadiah and the council that she is the Great One, the chosen one who will be our savior. The rest of the camp doesn’t believe, but we of the New Dawn know that she must be the Great One meant to save us from this holy tragedy.”

  “She’s just a little girl.” I want to say the word normal, but I can’t.

  “Please don’t stop this,” says the woman, her eyes pleading. “Please don’t interfere. If you reject me, someone else will have the privilege, and I will be disgraced.” Her eyes actually fill with tears. “Please allow my life to mean something in this world. This is the greatest contribution and the greatest honor I could have in this life.”

  I stand there with my jaw slack, trying to think of something to say.

  My baby sister, though, doesn’t have any problems turning her down. She shyly shakes her head no and crosses her legs, sitting in her monk pose. We’d always called her our little Buddha since she decided to be a vegetarian when she was only three.

  Tears stream down the woman’s cheeks. “I understand. You have different plans for me.” She looks like she’s been personally rejected. She gets up slowly and ties her sheet firmly back into place, giving me a glare.

  The woman bows and backs out, refusing to turn her back to Paige.

  My mom sighs beside me in exasperation. “This doesn’t change anything, you know,” she says to me. “I’ll just have to go back and find the next one in line.”

  “Mom, no.”

  “They want to do this. It’s an honor for them. Besides,” she turns to follow the woman, “they come with their own sheet for easy cleanup.”

  “YOU KNOW WHERE this church with the stained glass is?” asks Raffe.

  “What?” I’m still thinking about the cult and the messiah belief swirling around Paige.

  “The church?” Raffe looks like he wants to wave his hand in front of my eyes. “With the stained glass?”

  “There are a couple of churches downtown. We can just walk to there from here. What’s this about?”

  “Someone is apparently trying to meet with me.”

  “Yeah, I got that. Who and why?”

  “I’d like to find out.” I can tell by Raffe’s shuttered expression and the tone of his voice that he probably already has a good guess.

  “Is this an angel who knows where the Resistance camp is?”

  “Probably not. Someone who can get the word out through humans but not likely to know about the camp. He was probably sent to the church by someone like her.” He nods in the direction that the cult woman went.

  I’m probably better off bringing Raffe to this mysterious person than risking him finding the camp while looking for Raffe.

  I glance at Paige, who is singing Mom’s apology song to her locusts perched on the branches above her. I walk over to her. “If I leave for a little while, are you going to be okay on your own?”

  She nods. From the edge of the shadows, Mom walks back to us. I’m not entirely sure whether Paige is better off with or without her, but since Mom is walking back alone, we must have at least a little time before her next shenanigans.

  I walk back to Raffe. “I’m all yours. Let’s go find that church.”

  I’m not as familiar with downtown Palo Alto as I am with downtown Mountain View, so it takes us longer than I expect to find the churches. The first one only has a tiny strip of stained glass, and I’m guessing that’s not the one they meant. When someone says “the church with the stained glass,” I assume they mean a whole lot of stained glass.

  Downtown Palo Alto used to be the hip spot to be. It was known for its waiting list restaurants and cutting-edge startup companies. My dad used to love coming here.

  “Who’s looking for you?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “But you have guesses.”

  “Maybe.”

  We walk down a street lined with craftsman houses. The cute suburban neighborhood seems to have mostly survived, except for a few blocks where houses have been randomly destroyed.

  “So is it a military secret? Why aren’t you sharing your guesses?”

  We turn a corner, and there’s the church with the stained glass.

  “Raphael,” says a male voice from above.

  A ghostly shape floats down toward us from the church’s roof. A painfully white angel lands in front of us.

  It’s Josiah the albino. His skin is as unnaturally white as I remember, and his eyes are freakishly blood red, even in this dim moonlight. He looks like pure evil. Backstabbing creepy bastard.

  My lip twitches in a snarl, and I pull off the teddy bear, gripping the handle of my sword.

  Raffe stays my hand.

  “I’m glad to see you’re well, Archangel,” says Josiah. “That was quite the scene last night.”

  Raffe arches his brow arrogantly.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” says Josiah. “But it’s not true. Look, give me two minutes to explain.” It’s amazing how a guy who so blatantly betrayed Raffe could sound so sincere and friendly.

  Raffe is scanning the area. Seeing him do this reminds me that this could be a trap and that I shouldn’t get distracted by my anger toward this scum.

  I glance around and see nothing but quiet shadows in what was once a sweet little neighborhood.

  “I’m listening,” says Raffe. “Talk fast.”

  “I talked Laylah into agreeing to change back your wings,” says Josiah. “For real this time. She swore to me.”

  “Why should I believe her?”

  “Or you,” I say. It was Josiah and Laylah who tricked Raffe into having demon wings in the first place. There’s no reason to believe they’ll do anything but trick him again.

  Josiah turns his bloody eyes to me. “Uriel blames Laylah for the locusts turning on us last night. He says no one else but the do
ctor who created them could have that kind of control over them. He has her locked in her laboratory. He would have killed her, except she’s in the middle of creating some plagues for him. That, and she’s the only one who can maintain his growing army of monsters.”

  “Plagues?” I ask. “Why is everybody trying to make plagues?”

  “What’s an apocalypse without pestilence?” asks Josiah.

  “Great,” I say. “So we’re supposed to trust a known liar who’s cooking up apocalyptic plagues? And why would we even care what happens to Laylah? Serves her right for transplanting demon wings onto Raffe and playing Dr. Frankenstein with human beings. We’re not just biomass to be shaped into whatever dolls she wants to play with.”

  Josiah looks at me, then back at Raffe. “Does she need to be here?”

  “Apparently, she does,” says Raffe. “It turns out that she’s the only one I can trust to watch my back.”

  I stand a little taller when he says that.

  “Laylah didn’t know.” Josiah shifts his body to make it clear he’s talking to Raffe. “I warned her not to get involved, but you know how ambitious she is. Look, you can trust her this time because you’re her only hope out of this mess. Uriel will kill her when he has everything he needs from her.”

  “Kill her? You mean set her up for a fall?”

  “No, I mean kill her. He was furious with her, wouldn’t believe a word she said when she told him she had nothing to do with the locusts turning on us. He flew into a rage and told her he killed the Messenger and he could kill her too. The Messenger, Raffe. Uriel killed him.”

  An image of the winged man who called himself Archangel Gabriel, the Messenger of God being shot down over the rubble of Jerusalem flashes through my mind. They looped it for days on TV.

  Josiah shakes his head like he’s still having trouble believing it. “Uriel said Gabriel had gone insane, that he hadn’t actually spoken to God in eons, that he’d made up all the rules that God had supposedly commanded him to make. He said there was no reason why Uriel couldn’t be Messenger, that he could lie as well as Gabriel. So Uriel had him killed. Killed. He admitted it.”

  They stare at each other, Raffe looking just as shocked as Josiah.

  “So what’s the big deal?” I ask. “Our kings used to get murdered all the time.”

  “We don’t kill our own,” says Josiah. “The last time that happened, Lucifer and his armies fell.” He tilts his head at me as if not sure the message got through. “It was kind of a big deal.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard of him,” I say.

  Raffe lets out a frustrated breath. “I can’t do anything about it from the outside.”

  “I know,” says Josiah. “That’s why you have to let Laylah fix your wings. Somebody other than Uriel has to win the election. We’ve got word out to try to find Michael, but it’s unlikely we’ll find him in time.”

  “Why does Laylah think they’d vote for me instead of Uriel?”

  “You still have loyal followers. Rumors have been flying that you’re back, and I’ve been careful to cultivate them in your favor. You have a shot.”

  “No wonder Michael is staying away. Knowing him, becoming the Messenger is the last thing he wants to do. He can’t lead armies in the field if he’s smoothing feathers and buried under administration at home.”

  “You’re the only archangel who can challenge Uriel right now. Even if Michael wins in absentia, an archangel would need to stand in for him until he comes back. If you can do that, then Laylah can stand behind you. She now has every reason to want you to have your wings back.”

  “Raffe, you can’t trust him. Not after what he’s done.”

  “I know it looks bad,” says Josiah, “but have I not made the oath? A life for a life. You gave me my freedom from eternal slavery and gave me the chance to earn a life worth living. And I pledged it to you.”

  I push my face toward him. “You didn’t look so happy to see him back in San Francisco.”

  “I thought he was dead. I thought I was free of my oath, free to make my own way. But I would never betray Raphael. Why do you think he came to me? I’m the only one guaranteed to be loyal. The only one without a clan, a lineage, or honor to protect that supersedes my allegiance to him. Do you understand?”

  He looks at Raffe. “I didn’t know what they were going to do to you. I thought they were just going to reattach your wings. Laylah had every intention of following through, but Uriel found out you were here and she lost her nerve. But now she simply has no choice. She has no one to ally with but you. And she’s the only one who can sew your wings back on.”

  That last part hits home. With Doc’s arm broken, who else can do the operation?

  “You’re running out of time, Archangel,” he says. “The election is about to happen. And if you can’t stop Uriel, we’ll have a deranged murderer as our Messenger. His word will be law, and everyone who opposes him will fall. This could be the start of a civil war. We could end up having an all-out extermination of not only the humans, but all angels who oppose him.”

  I can feel the tension radiating from Raffe. How can he say no? This is his chance at getting his wings back and setting things right. He can have everything he wants. He might even become Messenger and save everyone from this apocalyptic mess.

  And then he would go home, never to return in my lifetime.

  “WHERE WOULD YOU operate?” asks Raffe.

  “At the aerie,” says Josiah. “Laylah is under guard. She can’t get out. But I could sneak you in.”

  “Go. I’ll follow you with the wings in a minute,” he says, taking off the backpack that holds his blanket-rolled wings.

  “I should go with you,” I say.

  “You can’t.” He takes off his coat and slides the backpack straps on backward so that he’s wearing the pack against his chest. He fiddles with the waist strap, making sure it’s in place. Wearing a backpack this way might not look great on someone else, but on him, it looks like a fitted piece of military gear strapped tight to his broad chest.

  “You need someone to watch your back.”

  He arches his back and spreads his wings the way I might stretch my legs after sitting too long. “Josiah will have to do. It’s too dangerous for you. Besides, you need to take care of your family.”

  A thought occurs to me. “Maybe Laylah could help Paige too?” I hate even saying it, but with Doc’s arm broken, who else can we turn to?

  “If things work out for me, I’ll see if I can get her to help your sister.”

  “Paige doesn’t have any more time than you do.”

  “It’ll be safer for her if we know that we can trust Laylah first.”

  He’s right, but my mind keeps spinning. I nod. “What about your sword?”

  “I can’t fly with her if she won’t accept me. And that won’t happen until I get my wings back. Take care of her until I return?”

  I nod, warmth flooding my chest. “So you’ll be back?”

  He looks at me with worry in his eyes.

  I know we’ve gone our separate ways before, but this time, it feels permanent. He’s about to reenter the angel world. And when he does, he’ll forget all about that Daughter of Man he partnered up with for a few days. He’s made it clear that he can’t be with me.

  “Is this goodbye?” I ask.

  He nods.

  We look into each other’s eyes. As usual, I have no idea what he’s thinking. I could make guesses, but they’d be fantasy.

  He leans down, and his lips hover a hair’s breadth from mine. I close my eyes, feeling the tingle of anticipation.

  Then he presses his lips to mine. His warmth spreads out from my lips down into my chest and stomach. Time stops, and I forget about everything else—the apocalypse, my enemies, watching eyes, monsters in the night.

  All I feel is the kiss.
<
br />   All I am is Raffe’s girl.

  Then he pulls back.

  He presses his forehead to mine, and I can feel the prickling of tears behind my lashes.

  “You’re going to get your wings back.” I swallow and talk fast before my voice can waver. “You’ll become Messenger, and they’ll follow you as their leader. Then you’ll take the angels home, away from here. Promise me that when you become the Messenger, you’ll take them away from here, away from all of us.”

  “Not much of a chance that I’ll become Messenger, but yes, I’ll do what I can to take them away.”

  And he’ll be the first one gone.

  I swallow.

  We stand there for a few moments, our breath mingling.

  The wind picks up, and it feels like we’re the only living beings in the world.

  Then he straightens up, leaning away from me. “It’s not about what I want or need. My people, the entire fabric of my society is about to unravel. I can’t let that happen.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.” I slowly wrap my arms around my middle. “You’re the best hope for my people too, you know. If you take control and take them back to where they came from, my world will be saved too.” But you won’t be with me.

  He shakes his head sadly at me. “These are the rules we live by. We are soldiers, Penryn. Legendary warriors willing to make legendary sacrifices. We do not ask. We do not choose.” He says that like a motto, a pledge he’s said a thousand times.

  He slowly lets me go, firmly setting me aside.

  He brushes my hair out of my face, strokes my cheek. He looks at every part of my face as if memorizing it. A half smile forms on his lips.

  Then he drops his hand, turns around, and leaps into the air.

  I put my hand over my mouth to keep from calling him back.

  The October wind tugs at my hair. Dry leaves float by, lost and abandoned.

  I SHOULD GO.

  Turn around and leave this place.