Then Michael shook his head, and the cold began settling in, freezing everything inside her. Her chest was a cold, solid ache, like ice waiting to shatter. She saw the bleakness on his face and knew what he’d say next.
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Well, you fucked that up.” Suddenly angry, she gestured to the bed. “What was all this, then? Did you know you’d be leaving before you fucked me?”
There was nothing in the blackness of his eyes now. No pain, no regret. Just emptiness.
“Yes,” he said, and the word was as dark and as empty as his gaze. “I’ve spent enough time as a Guardian. I want to live my own life, with a new face and a new name, and try to learn as much as I can.”
So he was just going to go off and leave all of them behind. Maybe he deserved to. He’d saved the world a thousand times over. If anyone deserved his own quiet life now, it was him.
But she didn’t deserve this. “How long ago did you decide to go?” Her voice cracked. “How long?”
“Since before you woke.”
Before she woke? “And not even a full day passed before you offered to please me in my bed. You knew then?”
“I knew I’d be leaving. I wanted to carry some of you with me.”
Memories of her. Well, that explained why he watched her so damn carefully. “So let me guess the rest of it. You never thought it would go this far. You only thought that, maybe, we’d put Caelum back together. You’d apologize, maybe I’d forgive you, maybe we’d end up in bed and you’d make me come so I wouldn’t feel so bad about what you did to me in Hell. But you never intended for me to feel anything for you. Is that how it went?”
His single nod was a spear through her heart, cracking the ice surrounding it. Beneath her, Caelum trembled. Michael’s body stiffened as the ground shifted under his feet.
His face blurred in front of her. “Well, thanks for the best fuck of my life. Now fuck off.”
His gaze flew to hers, eyes no longer empty but burning. “Not yet,” he said hoarsely, and the coppery scent of his blood filled the air. “Not like this. There’s still a little time.”
“There’s no time left, Michael. Not for you and me. You want to leave? I want you to fucking go.” Behind her, a column cracked. “You should have told me that ‘I am yours’ had an expiration date.”
“It doesn’t. I will always be yours.”
Her hysterical laugh smashed through the courtyard like a wrecking ball, splitting her new columns in half. Marble toppled and fractured into ruins on the ground.
Built with hope and happiness. Then shattered.
“Oh, my God.” The tears were starting, ice melting from around her shattered heart, streaming from her eyes. Bending over against the pain, she clutched at her chest. “Oh, my God.”
The realm shook with every word. The ground buckled, ruins cracking and toppling over each other again, the destruction an expanding roar through the city.
“Andromeda.” He held out his hand, the harmony of his voice an agonized plea. “Let me take you away from here.”
“Just leave now.” She was never letting him touch her again. “As you said, I’ll be fine.”
He started toward her. “Then let me protect you—”
He’d taught her to protect herself. Jab and lunge. The sword leapt into her grip. He didn’t turn aside but froze, the tip of her blade an inch from his chest. The realm was suddenly deadly silent.
Everything inside her was screaming, but the words that came out were hard and even. “Every block of stone in this realm could crush my body and it would hurt me less than you just did. So if you want to protect me, then leave me the fuck alone. As you should have done when I woke up.”
His features a desolate mask, Michael stared at her over the sword. His obsidian gaze searched her face, as if seeing as much as he could all at once, then swept down her length. His chest rose on a long, shuddering inhalation. Then he vanished, and all that was left of him was the lingering scent of his blood.
Taylor folded to the ground and let herself break.
THE LAST SUNRISE
After deciding to become a vampire, Joe Preston had made an effort not to miss a single sunset or sunrise, because after his transformation he wouldn’t see another one again. He did all right with the sunsets. But sunrises could be a bitch sometimes, especially when he’d been up half the night, chasing down four people who were likely on their way to becoming murderers.
That morning, Joe overslept. The sun was streaming through the gap in his bedroom curtains when he woke up—still wearing his suit pants and work shirt, which hadn’t happened in a while. Not since Carolyn.
Carolyn. Shit.
He glanced at the clock and hauled his ass out of bed, scrubbing his hand over his face to clear away the lingering sleep. His palm rasped over a thick growth of whiskers. Due at her house for breakfast in five minutes, but he wasn’t getting out of here without a shower and a shave.
And he didn’t want her sitting around unprotected while she waited.
At the front door, he swiped the blood from the three symbols, then stepped outside into the frosty morning and grabbed his paper from the porch. He stood on the cold boards in his bare feet, his gaze sweeping the street. He knew this neighborhood, the cars, the people. Nothing out of place. Not that he would see a demon coming. But the demons weren’t who a human had to worry about.
An icy breeze touched the back of his neck. Jesus. Mornings this cold weren’t fit for anyone.
He went back inside, locking the door. Carolyn would have lowered the shielding spell around her place now, expecting him to knock. He called her from his cell phone, instead, and walked into the kitchen.
And remembered that goddamn stove.
“Joe,” Carolyn answered. As always, the warm sound of her voice made him grin at nothing. “You’re not here, so does this mean you’ve been called to the job?”
Once a cop’s wife, always a cop’s wife. And his wife, soon enough. He slapped a pod into the coffeemaker, which had to be the best damn invention in the history of the world. That and the microwave.
“It means that I took an extra few winks of beauty sleep. I’m running late.”
“Hmmm. I suppose that’s a decent excuse. How much prettier are you?”
“I can give Ames-Beaumont a run for his money.”
“Ooooh. Send a picture.”
He grinned again. “You’ll see when I get there. Give me a half hour.”
“And put up the shield again?”
God, he loved the smart ones. “Yep. And any people you don’t know show up, you don’t let it down. Even if they’re bleeding.”
He’d known demons to pull every trick in the book. If the humans were being helped along by the sentinels, they might pull the same.
“Drifter came by a half hour ago and gave me pictures of those four.”
“Good.” And they both needed to get the shield up again. “All right. I’ll see you in thirty. Love you.”
“Love you.”
He grabbed his coffee and returned to the front door. A pin stuck out of the frame beside the symbols. Poking his finger, he set the spell again, then made his way to the bathroom. The phone went on the toilet tank, within easy reach of the shower. The coffee went next to the sink, the chain of his personal alarm over the door handle, then he turned the faucet to hot.
Eyes closed, he stood under the spray. A cold draft snaked through the shower curtain, and he tipped his head back, groaning at the thought of yet another thing to fix before Carolyn moved in. But a drafty shower wouldn’t do.
Though, on the other hand, maybe it would. Vampires didn’t take hot showers. They didn’t even like warm rooms. So maybe he’d just let that draft blow all it wanted, and save himself a bundle.
He’d call it a perk. Some fancy, cold-air spa.
But it was a damn shivering nuisance now. The draft slipped through again and he shut off the spray, grabbed a towel, and scrubbed himself d
own. At the sink, he chugged down the coffee before brushing his teeth, grimacing at the slightly sweet taste. He’d used the wrong damn pod again.
He swiped his hand across the foggy mirror and froze.
His alarm was gone.
For a long second, he stared at the door handle in the reflection. His emergency alert had been hanging from the chain that he wore around his neck. Now it wasn’t.
Heart thumping, he snared his phone. No service. Because the goddamn shield was up.
Then how the hell had they gotten in?
His skin prickled. There’d been a breeze on the porch. A demon, rushing past him?
If it was just a demon, then he’d be all right. But he wasn’t taking any chances. The demon could have taken down the shield and let someone else inside the house while he was in the shower, then put the shield up again so that Joe couldn’t call for help.
His weapon was in the next room. A bullet might not hurt one of the bastards much, but Joe would be glad to shoot it anyway. Phone in hand, he started for the hall.
But his vision wavered on his first step. His legs were heavy, sluggish, and the sweetness of the coffee was still thick on his tongue.
Something clattered against the floor.
Joe looked down, and forever passed before he recognized his phone on the tiles. Because he’d dropped it. Just slipped out of his fingers. And then he was on the floor, too, thinking that it was just sensible to lie down right now, that he hadn’t gotten enough sleep after all.
The bathroom door pushed open. Cold air swept in, followed by a tall figure with white wings. A Guardian. Thank God. Except that when the winged figure bent over him, his eyes glowed crimson.
Softly, the sentinel said, “My lord Lucifer wants to know—are you laughing now?”
And then the world spun away into the dark.
PART 2
THE END
CHAPTER 19
He was dying.
Still holding his final breath, Michael stared out over the moonlit ocean. Waves rushed up onto the shore, drowning his feet before sliding away.
He’d had an hour with her here. Heaven in her arms in Caelum. It would never have been enough time, but it might have been enough to take him through eternity.
None of that was left now. Nothing but the pain remained, and he’d carry this with him to Chaos.
But he was already in a hell of his own making.
He should have left her alone. Everything she’d said was true. He’d only wanted to earn her forgiveness, to rebuild Caelum, to give her pleasure instead of pain—and to spend time with her. But he should have left her alone.
Because he was dying.
And his inability to accept that had hurt her more than he could bear. His absolute certainty that he would protect her had blinded him to the possibility that he might be the one to cause her the most pain. But he should have known. He should have seen.
He’d been so thoughtless. Careless. And because of his blindness, he could only see her anger now. Her heartbreak.
And his every thought was of trying to ease both.
But he couldn’t. Going to her now would not change the past, in which he should have stayed away. It would not change the fact that, in his blindness, he had broken every promise he’d made to her. It wouldn’t keep him from dying.
She’d made her leap of faith. He’d promised to catch her. He’d promised not to hurt her. He’d promised to protect her.
Now he was helpless to save her. He could not heal this. He could only hurt her more.
A pair of heartbeats sounded behind him. Jacob and Alice. Michael pivoted in the sand.
The young Guardian said, “Hey, uh—it’s been a few hours, and Selah’s covering headquarters, so I thought it would be okay if I popped in now.”
Michael nodded.
At his side, Alice curled her fingers into Jacob’s shirt, as if holding herself upright.
Jacob pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, Alice and I were talking earlier, and we already cleared this with Irena, but . . . Ah, Jesus.”
Tears stood in Alice’s eyes. Her breath hitched before she spoke. “We want to help Khavi and Anaria in Hell. Help them try to stop Lucifer.”
And they were seeking his approval. He nodded again and used the Guardians’ sign language to answer. You are both fine warriors. Khavi could not ask for better at her side.
“God.” Jacob bent over, teeth clenched. “You’re killing me, Michael. I can’t be all manly with Alice if I’m bawling into her skirts.”
Because he’d been singing Andromeda’s song. Though he did not wish to, Michael eased up on the hum in his throat.
“You’re bleeding.” Breathing deep, Alice came closer, following the scent around his side. She fell silent for a long moment when she spotted his back. “You can’t heal this?”
He shook his head.
“Were these symbols made from the dragon weapon?”
Yes, he signed.
When Andromeda had told him to fuck off, Khavi’s spell had ripped apart. Only his determination to finish Lucifer held Michael together now. But though he still lived, his body was no longer healing itself.
Dying.
“Shall I bandage it for you?”
Yes, he signed. Thank you.
With gentle fingers, she began smoothing gossamer sheets over the symbols. “These are woven from my black widows’ silk. You’ll find that this adhesive is very strong. You should not have to replace it.” He heard the smile in her voice. “And if folk tales about placing spiderwebs on injuries are to be believed, this might help you heal.”
This would not heal. The dissonance was tearing his body apart. He had two days. Perhaps three. And though his Gift could heal any injuries he received in battle, it would not heal this.
I am grateful, he signed when she finished. Her long dress whispering across the sand, she came to stand in front of him, worry pinching her face.
They both glanced down when his phone buzzed.
Carolyn Taylor’s alert. He looked at Jacob.
“Emergency?” the young Guardian asked.
I will take care of this, he signed in the space of a second. Be safe in Hell.
He anchored to Carolyn Taylor and jumped into her kitchen. No one else in the room. Jason was the only other being in the apartment.
Worry sang through her psychic melody, then sharp surprise when she saw him. “Oh!” Her hand flew to her chest. “I thought Andy would be with you.”
He could not hold his breath now, but the new one he took held the faint trace of Andromeda’s scent. “No.”
“I don’t mean to bother you. But I didn’t know the new number for her phone, and Joe was supposed to meet me for breakfast ten minutes ago.” Uncertainty trembled across her mouth. “I talked to him only a half hour before that. He would have called me again if he was going to be any later.”
Michael tried to anchor to him. Nothing, but he might have been shielded.
But he might not be.
Andromeda’s mother touched his arm. The faith in her eyes made the weight of her hand almost unbearable. “Just . . . will you go get Andy?”
With dread taking a tight hold of his neck, Michael nodded.
And returned to Andromeda’s side.
* * *
Her storm of weeping had waged a path of destruction through Caelum. She’d thought the realm couldn’t be any more ruined, but her crying had left it almost completely flattened.
Like she’d been.
Now the numbness was setting in. Her brain refused to work. She just wanted to lie here on this bed, but she made herself sit up.
She wouldn’t be this person. She might cry. She might scream. She might be broken.
But she would not give in. Too many people depended on her. The alarm she’d set on her phone was beeping, telling her that she was supposed to be back at headquarters, and the sound was the kick in the ass she needed to remember why she had to get up. There was the job. T
here were people to save. And if that was the only reason she made it through the next few days, then it was a good enough reason. Eventually, she’d find her footing again. But for now, there were sentinels that needed to be slain and a portal that should never be made.
Then Michael appeared beside her, and the numbness burst into pain again. Tears burned in her eyes. With a cry, she backed away from him, turning her head. “You can’t do this. You have to leave me alone.”
Sheer agony lined his features. “I wouldn’t have come. But Joseph Preston is missing.”
Sluggish, her mind struggled to switch gears. “What?”
“He spoke to your mother on the phone forty minutes ago. He was supposed to meet with her, but he hasn’t, and I can’t anchor to him.” His gaze searched hers. “It might be nothing. But we need to find him.”
All at once, what he was telling her finally penetrated the numbness. Joe was missing.
“Oh, my God.” Taylor surged to her feet, forming clothes in the same instant, reaching for Michael’s hand. “Go to his house.”
He jumped into Joe’s living room. Though spinning, she felt Michael inhale—then stiffen against her. She fought past the disorientation.
“What is it?”
“Patricia Johnson and Dennis Parkins were here.”
Two of the missing humans. Fear rolled up into a sick ball inside her. “Can you follow the scent?”
He vanished.
And returned less than a second later with Sir Pup. The hellhound raised his heads, eyes glowing with hellfire.
“Find him,” Michael said.
Sir Pup crashed through the front door, ripping wood from the hinges and shape-shifting to full size as he ran into the street. Michael’s arm came around her. His wings snapped wide and he launched them into the air like he’d been shot from a rifle.
So fast. The streets passed below them in a dizzying blur, Sir Pup’s glowing eyes a guiding light through the traffic. Though she could barely follow the turns he made, she knew this city. She knew the direction they were heading.
“We’re going to Hunters Point!” she shouted over the rush of air and the torrent of his wings. And Lucifer would choose a location that rubbed their noses in it. “Check the old headquarters!”
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