I study the sigil on my phone until I’m confident I can recreate it flawlessly, and put my phone back in my pocket. I take a wide stance, and concentrate on the ground below me. I conjure up the mental image of the sigil, and try to recreate it in flames on the ground. The lines begin to appear right in front of me, little trails of fire spreading out into the shape I need them to take.
As soon as the sigil is complete, the flames intensify, and I have to take a step back to keep myself from getting burned. As they reach higher and higher, the flames slowly shift from their natural reddish-orange, to the same pale blue as my aura. I shield my eyes to block out the light when it becomes too intense, but when I look again, there’s no evidence that fire ever scorched the ground. I can see the sigil when I close my eyes, but to the casual observer, it looks like nothing ever happened.
Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean that the initial flames went unnoticed. I can hear the shouts of angry guards as they race towards me. I take one last look at the untouched earth below me, and teleport away from the scene long before any guard can spot me.
The dark, wooded scenery I’d become accustomed to is immediately replaced by blinding sunshine and a paved road. The street signs around me are in English again; I’m back in New York City, right outside the apartment building my friends and I have commandeered. I walk inside, congratulating myself on what I hope is a job well done. Assuming the sigil does as Queen Aileana says it will, there will be no more senseless killing tomorrow than usual. And after tomorrow, there will be nothing left of the man behind the would-be massacre.
26
Now that there’s nothing left to do but wait, I’m finding it harder and harder to relax. I lie in bed with my eyes screwed shut, wishing sleep would take hold of me, but sleep won’t come. And no method I can think of can quiet the maelstrom of thoughts plaguing my mind. It’s not just worrying about tomorrow, that I’d be able to handle without a problem. I’m worried about my friends. I’m worried about my mom. I’m worried about the possibility that all of my efforts have been for nothing.
Eventually, my anxiety becomes too much to endure. I roll out of bed, and slip on a pair of shorts before tiptoeing across the hall. I knock on Alyssa’s front door, and to my surprise, she answers within a few seconds. She gives me a knowing look, and asks, “Couldn’t sleep?”
“No…” I wrap my arms around myself to keep from shivering. Maybe walking around in just shorts and a t-shirt was a bad idea; this building is freezing. “I’ve got too much on my mind. You?”
“Same here. I was actually just on my way to see you.” Alyssa opens her door all the way, and steps out of the way so I can come inside.
This apartment is oddly reminiscent of her last one; whereas before, she could only decorate her bedroom the way she wanted, her style has been flung all over this new space. Every wall features at least one poster of a band she listens to, and unlike the apartment she shared with two others, everything here is clean and organized. Something brushes against my leg as I follow Alyssa to her living room, and I look down to see her tortoiseshell cat Gideon has miraculously survived months on his own.
Alyssa notices me staring, and scoops Gideon up into her arms as she sits down on her bed. “I found him while I was picking up a bunch of stuff from my old place,” she explains. “He’d been living off the mice in the walls. That just proves my theory: when humans finally die out, cats are gonna be the next master species. And the smug little jerks know it, too.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I take a seat next to Alyssa, and ask, “What’s keeping you up?”
Alyssa releases Gideon when he begins struggling to get free, and she says, “Preshow jitters, I guess. I just hope tomorrow goes well. How about you?”
Now that someone’s asking, I’m not really sure what is bothering me so much that I can’t sleep. I suppose if I’m being honest with myself, I want to turn back time, relive all the moments that could have led up to this and alter them so that our lives wouldn’t have gotten as insane as they have. At length, I ask Alyssa, “Do you ever miss being a kid?”
Alyssa glares at me over her glasses. “That better be a rhetorical question. You know all about my crappy childhood.”
“Not the actual experience you had, I meant… I dunno, the innocence. When everything was spelled out for us in black and white. Back when there were good guys and bad guys.”
“There are still good guys and bad guys, Heather.”
“I don’t know… I’m starting to think that’s a flawed concept. Maybe there’s no such thing as good.”
Alyssa looks like she might want to smack me, but thankfully, she refrains. “I don’t think I can agree with you there. Especially not when I know you.”
“I’m not ‘good’, Allie. Look at me! I get off on hurting people. I’m not happy unless there’s blood on my hands. Michael bred me to be a warrior, and boy did he ever get what he wanted.” I put my head between my hands; it feels like I’m barely holding myself together. “…And tomorrow, I’m going to kill someone. How can I be good, and a murderer? How am I supposed to reconcile that?”
“I don’t know,” Alyssa admits. “But I do know you. You’re not a mindless killing machine. When you do fight, it’s to protect the people you love, or yourself. You’re a big believer in doing the right thing. Heather, you’re the best person I’ve ever known, and I…”
I lift my head, and ask, “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You were going to say something, what was it?”
“It’s nothing, really-“
“Try me.”
Alyssa looks frozen in place for a split second. Then she mutters, “Screw it,” and leans across the space between us to kiss me. The moment her lips touch mine, the rest of the world fades away. I close my eyes, put my palm on her cheek, and draw her in. For a brief moment, there is no war. There are no angels, or demons, or any reasons to worry. It’s just the two of us, reaching out for each other, the world within her colliding with mine.
I want this to continue. God, do I ever want it to continue. But I pull away, breathing heavily, to whisper, “We shouldn’t…”
Alyssa’s shakes her head, and clears her throat before choking out, “Why not?”
“It’s just, I’m already going to be worrying about you tomorrow. If we take this… whatever it is any further, neither of us are gonna have our heads where they need to be. So… to be continued?”
“To be continued,” Alyssa agrees. She licks her lips, and I can tell she wants to kiss me again. I can’t say I’d stop her if she tried. But she settles for taking my hand, and locking her fingers with mine. She smirks at me, and asks, “Does this mean you’re into girls now?”
I shrug in response. “Does it have to be either or?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Good, because I don’t think it is for me.”
“I can live with that.” Alyssa leans back on her bed, and I follow suit, with our hands still entwined. We look at each other unashamedly across the tiny space between us. It’s odd; even though we’ve been friends for over a year, I can normally only steal glimpses of her once in a while, like I’m trying to get a good look at the sun. But now I can look as much as I want. We stare at each other until our breathing slows, and our eyelids give in to gravity. I may have come to Alyssa riddled with anxiety, but as I lose my hold on consciousness with the warmth of her hand in mine, it finally feels like all is right in the world.
***
When the morning sun becomes too much of a nuisance to ignore, I open my eyes to Alyssa’s dirty blonde hair mere inches from my face. We must have rearranged ourselves in our sleep; our hands are no longer linked, but she’s much closer than I remember last night, with my arm draped around her middle. I brush the hair off of her forehead, and kiss her gently before climbing out of bed. Every inch of me wishes we could stay here and hide forever, but we’re both needed. And besides, after today, we’ll have all the time in t
he world.
I notice how calm I am in the middle of stepping into my Converse. Compared to how anxious I was last night, right now, I feel ready for anything. Talking to Alyssa must have helped a lot more than I thought it would. I look around my room to see if I’ve forgotten anything, and my eyes fall upon the necklace Michael gave me. On a whim, I decide to wear it one last time. When everything is said and done, I’ll throw it into the ocean. I secure the chain around my neck, double check that the scabbard holding my sword is attached to my belt, fasten my golden bangle around my wrist, and walk out the door.
I make my way over to Jenna’s room under the assumption that I’m early, but I’m surprised to find the rest of the Fallen already there. I walk in to Jenna fitting Terry with an earpiece. When she spots me, she remarks, “You’re late. But more importantly, you’re next.”
“Yeah, yeah. Is everyone else good to go?”
“We’re still waiting on Lily, Alyssa, and Lucas.” Once Terry’s headset is arranged properly, Jenna waves me over and gives me my own. As she slips the device onto my ear, she explains, “Nick helped me power up the security cameras in Midtown. This way, I can keep an eye on the action from underground. I’ll let you guys know where the perimeter is the weakest, or if someone needs help.”
“Got it.” Alyssa walks into the apartment a few moments after me, and our eyes lock across the room. I nod in her direction, and she smiles at me, like we would any other day. We have an unspoken agreement to keep last night between us, for now.
Once Lily and Lucas arrive, they’re fitted with headsets as well, and Jenna talks us through our positions and duties one last time. Then we’re released, and each of us runs off to find where we need to be. Nick finds me quickly, and together, we teleport to the low rooftop where Michael stands waiting for Lucifer’s arrival. He acknowledges our arrival with a nod, but keeps his focus on the streets. He knows that Lily and I have banded together with the other Nephilim to help strike down Lucifer’s armies, but I doubt he expects us to turn on the angels once the two main players are dead. This could be the last time I ever see my father. I take a long look at him in profile, and decide that after all he’s done, and all he’s planned to do, I can live with that.
My attention is drawn away from Michael by a hum emanating from the streets below us. As I look down, I can see a crack in the fabric of time and space appearing, and widening to encompass the entire street. Shadowy figures step through the crack, and at first, I think they’re normal people. But then I remember just what demons are; corrupted souls inhabiting the bodies of normal people. The lesser demons remain in their human forms, but the greater demons emerge from Hell in their true forms, their glowing red eyes standing out against their black, armored bodies.
Hundreds upon hundreds of demons spill out onto the streets, some of them flying through the tear and whizzing out of view. Behind the first wave of minions walks Lucifer, just the man we were waiting for. He spreads his arms out wide, and calls up to Michael, “I’m a man of my word, brother. Like what you see?”
Michael’s eyes scan the army of demons below us, and he shouts back, “This isn’t anywhere near the millions you promised.”
“I figured I would take it easy on you at first. I’m looking forward to the moment you realize you can’t win.”
“The same to you, brother.” Michael waves his hand in the air, and another crack in the universe appears, this time in the sky above us. White light spills forth from the other side as hundreds of angels fly out of Heaven to join us. Some of them appear as winged humans, like Michael. But other angels have bodies arranged in bizarre, unexpected ways; there are some shaped like spinning wheels with eyes along their spokes, some with four wings and four faces, and some who appear to be more bird than man. Hundreds of them fill the sky before perching on rooftops, ready to strike when Michael gives the word.
“I hope this isn’t all you’ve got,” Lucifer says. “Or this isn’t going be very fun.”
Michael gives Lucifer a knowing smile, and says, “Trust me, this is only the beginning of what I have in store for you.”
“Good.” Lucifer looks around him at his loyal subjects, and orders, “Give them hell. Pun intended.” Then he turns, and walks back in the direction of the doorway to Hell.
“Coward!,” Michael shouts. “You would leave before the battle even begins?”
Lucifer stops for a moment, then looks over his shoulder at Michael. There’s no mirth in his eyes, no mischief. Just bitter resentment. “Forgive me, brother. You must have me confused with a soldier.” Then he steps through the doorway, and disappears.
This is the moment Nick and I have been waiting for. As one, we leap over the edge of the roof, spread our wings, and soar over the majority of Lucifer’s army. Nick isn’t quite as experienced with flying as I am, so he lets me take the lead. I twist and roll out of the way of demons trying to claw at me, but they can’t stop me from following Lucifer. I slip through the doorway just as it begins to shrink, and part of me hopes that Nick is too slow to make it through in time. But as the buildings around me are replaced by obsidian walls, I can hear him behind me, his leathery wings struggling to keep up with my pace.
There isn’t a lot of room to fly in this corridor, so I land directly between the red floor lights lining the sides. Nick soars over my head, then lands clumsily a few feet ahead of me. I jog past him, and urge him to pick up the pace. “Come on, he can’t have gotten far.”
“I’m right behind you,” Nick says as he falls into step behind me. Before long, we reach the end of the corridor, and push through the heavy iron door at the end. We step across the threshold into an enormous office, decorated in a similar fashion to Lucifer’s trophy room. A circular slab of obsidian rests in the middle of the room, with papers scattered across the shining surface. Just outside the floor to ceiling window, I can see massive volcanoes spewing molten rock into the air. And silhouetted against the blood red sky is Lucifer, standing with his arms behind his back.
Part of me hopes that our entrance escaped Lucifer’s attention. But he addresses us without even turning around. “It’s about time you showed up,” Lucifer says in an almost triumphant voice. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Nick and I exchange a glance, and I grip the handle of my sword tightly. “Then you know why we’re here?”
“Of course I do.” Lucifer turns to face us, and slowly begins to pace around the circular table. “You see, while my brother put all his time and energy into warfare, I put my mind to better use. I’ve studied humans inside and out. Their minds, their bodies, their souls… I know you better than you know yourselves. The tenacious warrior princess and her noble knight… it was inevitable that the two of you would come to find me.”
Nick and I likewise circle around the table, never taking our eyes off of our target. I shrug off Lucifer’s last comment, and say, “Alright, so you predicted that we would come. So what? You’re up against the daughter of an archangel and your latest experiment. There’s no way this is going to end well for you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Heather. See, you always need an ace in the hole… And mine is Nick.”
“What…?” I look over at Nick, who shrugs in response. This is news to both of us. “What are you talking about?”
Lucifer stops circling near the iron door we came through, and fixes me with a devilish grin. “Did Michael ever tell you that there used to be eight archangels?”
“No…”
“I was once among Heaven’s greatest. But when I noticed that Father seemed more interested in his precious new humans… Well, to make a long story short, I tried to call His attention back to where it was needed. That proved to be my biggest mistake; God stripped me of my rank, and cast me out of Heaven. And now that I am but a lowly seraph, my body cannot contain all the power an archangel wields.”
“I’m not seeing a point to this, Lucy. What does your little story have to do with Nick?”
“I got the i
dea from years of living with and cultivating my army of the damned. Any soul can infest any body… And I’ve only kept mine all these years out of vanity.”
I realize just what Lucifer means just a second too late. A black flame escapes from his mouth, his eyes, his ears, any orifice it can escape through, and jettisons into Nick’s body. Nick thrashes wildly, and grips the sides of his head, his eyes glowing even brighter red than before. His soul and Lucifer’s are dueling for control of his body, and judging by the cries of pain, it’s not a pleasant process.
Nick waves his arm, and his immense power throws me backward. I crash through the glass window, and lose sight of him as I hurtle to the ground below.
27
I only panic for a fraction of a second as I sail through the air. I’m so used to flying, that I’m more worried about the shards of glass falling beside me than hitting the ground. I twist in midair, and spread my wings so I can glide to safety. I can still hear Nick screaming in agony, even from hundreds of yards away. As soon as I land, I turn to see the shining metal building that I just fell from. Surprisingly enough, it wouldn’t look out of place in downtown Manhattan. But even more surprising is the black disc flying straight towards me. I dive out of the way as the table from Lucifer’s office hurtles past. It crashes into the side of a mountain, most of it crumbling upon impact.
I brush myself off as I climb to my feet, and watch with narrowed eyes as a dark figure slowly descends from the skies. As he approaches, I realize with horror that it’s Nick. Or at least, it used to be; evidently, his soul lost the battle for control over his body. Lucifer has taken over, and he’s made significant changes since I saw him last. Whereas Nick’s skin had been slowly turning alabaster white, it’s darkened to the color of charcoal. And the black veins that had been claiming his body inch by inch now glow the same shade of red as his eyes. It’s hard to believe that what I’m looking at had ever been a human being.
Scarred (the Spellbound Series Book 3) Page 21
