by Carol Oates
Draven’s expression hardened, concealing some thought she suspected he was trying to keep from her. His eyelashes fluttered before his eyes closed, and his hand slid over the blade. Candra watched his fingers tighten over the gnarled handle.
“What is going on?” Lofi demanded. She stepped up behind Candra, glaring at Draven.
Nathaniel stood, towering over them all and making the room seem even smaller.
“Either you give it to me, or I will take it,” Candra warned him.
His eyes flashed open and burned with passion. “Try,” he snapped furiously.
“Whoa,” Sandal exclaimed, stepping in between them with one hand on Draven’s shoulder and one on Candra’s. “How about we take the tension down a notch in here? What happened to ‘we’re all in this together’?”
“No human could get close enough, and no angel can use it,” Draven snapped.
“I guess it’s a good thing I’m neither.”
Draven glowered at Candra, and she glared right back at him, refusing to be the first one to break eye contact. She didn’t even breathe. Inside her veins, her blood tingled. Every muscle strained with anticipation to end this. He didn’t move or blink, his gaze boring into her, challenging her. Candra understood that Draven must be angry with her. He and Sebastian had been scheming behind her back too…and Gabe, how could he? Regardless, a standoff while people outside their sanctuary continued to die couldn’t be an option.
“Okay,” Candra said quietly. “I guess it’s down to me to share. Lilith offered me a trade: the lives of everyone I care for, and in exchange, I had to allow her to take possession of me. She showed me the Creation Blade the day of Ivy’s memorial. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want anyone to stop me.”
“What?” Brie shouted. “How could you keep that to yourself?”
Draven kept Candra locked in his gaze. A tremor ran through his body, and it seemed to be taking all his control just to stay standing, as if he’d already guessed what she planned to do. Sandal didn’t move. Her eyes flickered repeatedly between Candra and Draven, apparently waiting for one of them to stand down. He never would, without significant persuasion. He’d promised Sebastian he would protect her. She imagined that promise would include not allowing her to fall on her sword, so to speak. However, they were out of options.
“I’m not the weapon.” Candra breathed hard, clenching her fists by her side and refusing to back down, although the look on Draven’s face threatened her resolve. “The real weapon is inside me.”
A blush rose up his neck, and the artery in his neck pounded violently. If she looked down, she was sure his fists would be clenched too. A shimmer danced over his shoulders.
“Don’t you dare,” Candra swore, and the shimmer foreshadowing his wings disappeared as fast as it appeared. “This is the reason I’m here. Why do I exist, if it’s not to bring an end to Lilith…to end all this? I have to end this. I have to do what I was made to do.” She inched closer to Draven, standing on her toes and ignoring Sandal pressing her fingers harder into her shoulder to keep her back. The blade was the final piece in the puzzle, and Sebastian had given his life for it. She needed that blade. “Give. Me. The. Blade,” Candra ordered Draven.
He pushed his face closer still, forcing Sandal to back up. “No.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
GABE HAD SEEN ENOUGH and stepped in opposite Sandal. “Okay, back up.” He tapped Draven on the shoulder to get his attention and break the pointless staring match.
Candra turned away and pressed her hand to her pounding heart, rubbing the spot firmly with her palm.
“Tell her everything, Draven,” Gabe instructed, returning to Brie and pulling her toward him, wrapping one strong arm around her shoulder.
Brie seemed frail in comparison to the rest of them, even Sandal, as if she had reached the pinnacle of her tolerance for stress. Growing up, Candra had seen her stony gaze many times before, warning her not to test Brie’s resolve.
Draven nodded, but he hesitated. Candra backed up, giving him room. She planned to get the blade from him one way or another, but figured if they knew something and it could possibly help…well, forewarned is forearmed and all that.
Draven’s eyes moved slowly over every person standing in the room before coming to rest on Candra.
“I’m sorry.”
“For?” she pushed. The fingers of her right hand twitched, wanting to reach out and touch him. Whatever troubled him noticeably diminished his usual swagger.
“I should have seen sooner, but I wanted to believe the best in her.”
Candra tensed, instantly taking note of Ananchel’s absence and remembering his reluctance to explain earlier.
“Ananchel helped Lilith get the Creation Blade and blackmailed Sebastian into ending his relationship with you.”
“What?” Candra exclaimed. Her body began to shake. Anger pulsed through her so hard, she barely registered Brie’s arm embracing her or her hand rubbing her arm in comfort. “Please don’t tell me that ageless tramp brought about the apocalypse because Sebastian didn’t want her keeping his bed warm anymore.”
“Candra, allow him to finish, please,” Gabe interjected. He had taken his jacket off and rolled up his sleeves. Like the rest of them, he could have used a shower. His clothes were ragged, creased, and smudged with dirt.
Draven pressed his lips together and nodded to Gabe. Gabe shrugged off the gesture, pulled up a seat, and sat down heavily. Candra had no idea how long it had been since any of them had slept.
“No. Ananchel’s demise began long before her intimacy with Sebastian. It seems part of Ananchel’s power allowed her to retain her memories and, unfortunately, her bitterness. She blamed Sebastian. She believed he was the reason we are still here. She was sure Lilith was our way back into heaven and realized too late that she couldn’t trust Lilith…”
Draven paused, his lips moving to form words, but no sound escaped. His disarming navy eyes widened as he tried over and over to say whatever it was that refused to come. Candra felt her body shift forward. She wanted to shake the rest from him. Her heart beat mercilessly inside her, thump, thump, thump, and her arms and shoulders ached the way they would if she’d been straining to hold up an enormous weight, which of course, she justified in her mind, she had.
“Where is Ananchel?” she asked slowly, tilting her head to keep eye contact when he tried to look away.
He took a deep breath and set his jaw. “I took her wings.”
“You—you took her wings?” Lofi stammered, clearly never expecting to hear that particular revelation from Draven.
“I did what I had to. There are no actions without consequences.”
Everyone except Nathaniel stood in shocked silence. He watched Draven with pity that spoke volumes. Candra imagined it had to have been as painful as ripping his own arm off. She shuddered, thinking of Ananchel describing how it felt for an angel to lose their wings.
“Where is she now?” Lofi asked.
“I’m not sure. She is no use to Lilith as she is, and our connection is gone forever. Two Tenebras are looking for her, but it’s difficult while staying hidden. If she finds someone to heal her, her wings will grow back in time, but…”
“But what?” Candra pressed.
Draven rubbed the back of his neck and released a loud breath. “She threatened to let herself bleed out.”
Just like Sebastian. Hesitantly, Candra closed the distance between them and placed her hand gently on his forearm. The tendons below his warm skin strained in reflex to her touch. He observed her closely, maybe thinking she was about to take advantage of his vulnerability. She couldn’t deny the thought was there in her head, but she chose not to act on it. Instead, her fingers ghosted over his flesh, the static making tiny hairs rise along the trail to his wrist. Candra slipped her hand into his and squeezed.
Her touch seemed a pathetic excuse for comfort in light of his loss. A tiny crescent formed at the corner of his lips. His
expression grew brighter for an instant before the moment was lost, and he yanked his arm away roughly, flinging Candra back into the mind-set where she knew mourning lost relationships had to wait. She ground her teeth, refusing to give in to the wave of sorrow that would otherwise swallow her.
Candra spun in a semi-circle to face the others—everyone needed to hear what she had to say. No one said a word. She waited, and other than the noise of the city consuming itself droning on outside the walls, everything was silent once more.
“So this is how this ends?” she whispered. “We give in with hardly a whimper. People are dying. People I went to school with. Your customers…” Her eyes darted accusingly to Brie. “Your charges.” That could have been directed to most of them. “What about you?” She turned to Sandal. “Surely there are people you care for out there…and you.”
Nathaniel’s brow furrowed, but his shoulders remained strong. He appeared forever frozen in the stance of a generic nightclub doorman.
“Can—” Brie started. Candra silenced her with a raised fist and spoke through gritted teeth. “No. Don’t tell me I need to be protected again. I swear, the next person who tells me that will get my foot so far up their ass, they’ll be kissing my toes for a month.”
“I don’t think you understand what you stand to lose in this fight,” Draven said from behind her.
“Do you?” she fired back sharply and peeked over her shoulder to see him raking his hair away from his face with clawed fingers.
He paused, his eyes narrowing for a beat. She wasn’t entirely sure if he was attempting to read her or tell her something he didn’t want to say out loud. “Yes,” he answered solemnly, indicating the latter.
Candra’s heart seemed to stall inside her chest before the steady thumping restarted louder.
He’d figured out the truth she’d wanted to hide from. It had been staring her in the face from the first time she’d spoken to Lilith at school…even before that. She knew it when Sebastian had touched her in her bedroom after she’d faced off with Ananchel, the first time she’d met Draven. The sensations had all been confused and mixed up, riddled through with her teenage hormones and physical attraction. Hidden so deeply inside her, she had managed to convince herself she was going insane.
Fire tingled below her flesh and seeped through her bones and muscles. Candra closed her eyes tightly. Everything was suddenly so crystal-clear; the epiphany made perfect sense in a twisted way. She was tied to both Draven and Sebastian in a way she couldn’t escape. They’d both sensed the Arch’s presence in her, even when they didn’t realize it. She had an inescapable connection to them and to Lilith. Destined for all three in different ways before she was born, but ultimately, it had to be her choice. Now, the time had come for her to choose.
Thou shalt not kill…Candra closed her eyes tightly and saw her father behind her eyelids. The unrelenting rules of heaven left the Watchers languishing, forsaken in Acheron under a monsoon of evil about to obliterate them. Now, to save all its inhabitants, she too would have to defy heaven. She would have to take a life and fight sin with sin. Light filled every part of her, pulsing under her skin for a fraction of a second before it was gone—contained once more.
“So do I.”
“No!” Brie slammed her hand down on the desk beside her. “We are not going to do anything foolish here. We need to wait.”
“Wait for what?” Candra demanded. “Wait for Lilith to pick more of us off one by one? Wait until we run out of food here and are driven out like rats, weak and unable to fight? There are Watchers out there already, putting themselves on the line while we hide here. I’m not hiding anymore.”
Brie bristled, unable to come up with a fast retort. Candra accepted that it was the mother in her wanting to protect her child. However, there were countless mothers outside the walls of Saint Francis, and they were her responsibility too. Draven remained silent, although his presence pressed against her everywhere, as if his arms were around her body, restraining her.
“This is happening. It’s happening as soon as we can coordinate. So you all need to accept it. I know now what I’m capable of. I know why I’m here. I can send Lilith away. I can restore heaven.”
No one argued, and as they accepted her fate, Candra accepted it too.
“If I’m right, we don’t have a lot of time.” She directed the comment to Draven and used a softer tone. She didn’t intend to hurt him, but she needed him to set aside his personal feelings like he had done on so many other occasions. The truth was, she needed him more than ever to get through the next few hours.
“Sebastian switched the blades, but it’s a matter of time before Lilith realizes we have the real one. When she does, she will stop at nothing to get it back.”
“Sebastian,” Lofi whispered in a sorrowful voice no more than a breath.
“Whatever you need from us, we’ll do. What’s your plan?” Nathaniel stepped forward and placed a huge hand on Draven’s shoulder. Candra was unsure if it was a show of support or if he intended to restrain Draven.
Either way, it made no difference. Her insides coiled as tight as a spring ready to pop with the lightest touch.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
CANDRA SAT ALONE in one of the pews near the back of the church, thinking about her life. She’d been wrong about so many things, made assumptions and allowed herself to be led astray. At times, everything she thought she knew had been barely more than a shaky illusion, a collection of staged scenes in which she’d let herself be manipulated. Knowing this was her plan and her decision came with a certain sense of freedom.
It had started raining, and the repetitive sound of pouring water on the slate roof comforted her, a reminder the world didn’t stop turning when Sebastian had taken his last breath. It didn’t stop turning when anyone took their last breath. She hoped that after today, that would still be true. The sharp burning scent of incense lingering in the cold air no longer bothered her at all. Loss was just like a bad smell. Awful at first…sickening, but after a while, it faded into the background until it was hardly noticeable at all.
Candra had become more acquainted with death than she’d ever imagined she would be at her tender age. Death was one of those rare things everyone expected to face sooner or later—expected, yet always unexpected when it happened. Her reaction to Ivy’s death had been shock, debilitating anguish, a feeling of being dislocated from time and space. She didn’t expect to experience the serene peace that accompanied another death.
Footfalls on marble alerted her to company. The particular soft padding of bare feet told her it was Draven. A familiar sense of possibility and dread engulfed her, erasing some of her calm. Their feelings toward each other were horribly inconvenient, especially now. Without a word having passed between them, she assumed he wanted to talk her out of facing Lilith. No good would come of that either.
“Are they ready?” she asked. Deliberately delaying anything he might be intending to say.
Draven wrapped a thin blanket around her shoulders, his fingers hovering over the base of her neck for a moment before he moved away.
“Thank you.” It was cold. The stone walls of the chapel seemed to suck warmth right out of the air instead of insulating it. She chose to ignore the thought that someone else might need the blanket more if her having it offered any kind of comfort to Draven.
“Everyone will be in place,” he said and hesitated before taking a seat beside her. “How do you even know she will come?”
Candra snorted a quiet laugh. “Oh, she’ll come.”
“No one expects—”
“Don’t.” Candra cut him off, looking straight ahead. “A year ago, would you have hesitated?”
He took her hand from her lap and pushed his fingers through hers. She peered down at their entwined fingers. Dirt had gathered under her nails, and grime formed a rim around the cuff of her sweater.
“Yes.”
“Really?” She peeked up at him sideways.
&nbs
p; Dark stubble shadowed his jaw, and his usually calm hair was unkempt, as if he’d been running his fingers through the messy strands. “I don’t relish death in any form. I never have. So, yes, a year ago, I would have hesitated.”
“You’re hurt,” she noted with no trace of alarm, reasoning she was becoming numb to the sight of blood.
Draven released her hand and pulled the sleeve of his jacket farther over his other wrist, covering the end of what looked like an ugly gash. “It’s nothing. I ran into some of Lilith’s minions while we were setting up,” he explained dismissively.
“I can heal that, if you’d like.”
He smiled. “No…thank you. You need your strength.”
Candra turned her gaze away, instead focusing on a crack in the back support of the pew in front of them. The weight of his attention bore down heavily on her. The heat of his palm radiated up her arm, and the remnants of whatever cologne he wore seemed to grow stronger with each breath she took, as if his body heat intensified the fragrance. Even without looking, he held her full attention.
“You should have told me the truth,” Candra whispered. “How long have you known about the Arch?”
“I’m not sure what I know.”
“Isn’t it weird for you? It was weird for me, trying to figure out what’s me and what isn’t.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’m not confused about my feelings for you, if that’s what you’re getting at. When everything advised against it, I loved you.”
Candra made no reaction, although her heart thumped faster. They were both aware she didn’t love Draven that way, and she couldn’t tell him she did. Her feelings for him paled when compared to what she felt for Sebastian, but they were there nonetheless.
