by L. C. Davis
I frowned. “A what?”
“An abominable mate for an abominable prince,” he purred. “Isn’t that poetic? Of course, he’d have to share you with six others, but he didn’t care. The prince was enough like the Fae to have an innate need to share his miserable existence with someone, but enough like the ghoulish thing that raped his mother that no respectable Fae would have him. Truly a match made in hell, don’t you think?”
“But Asher isn’t… we’re not…”
“Oh, I’m sorry, he must have been saving it as a surprise,” he said with a fake pout. “Maybe he was waiting for the right time. He is such a romantic.” Dennis reached down, grabbing a fistful of my hair. “Unfortunately for you, I’ve never believed much in chivalry.”
“Let me go,” I hissed, thrashing as he tried to drag me over to the river. I managed to break free of his grasp but I left a fistful of hair behind in the process.
Dennis ignored me, moving to the water’s edge. I froze, watching as he knelt down and plucked a dark shadow from the water. It writhed like paper in the wind even though the air was still, but it had the vague shape of a human body. Dennis turned to face me with the soul still wriggling in his grasp. “Funny to think this is all we are, isn’t it? Just shadows. Shine a light on us and we disappear entirely.” He took a step closer and the soul let out a shriek that made my skin crawl. “I guess that’s how it is with all monsters.”
“Let it go,” I said through gritted teeth. It didn’t look anything like Daniel’s soul had in the brief moment between Locke plucking it from his body and transferring it to mine. This thing was warped and stretched and distorted, but something about seeing it manhandled grated against me.
“Do you know what it is?” he asked, clearly amused by my discomfort and apathetic to the soul’s.
“It’s a lost soul. Put it back.”
Dennis looked down at the squirming shadow, then back at me. “Oh, no, no. You misunderstand. This isn’t a soul, it’s what’s left over. This is what you’d become when Locke was done with you.”
I looked over with fresh horror at the teeming masses of spirits just beneath the river’s surface. My stomach churned. I’d known what Locke had planned for me when I first contracted with him, but seeing it was another matter.
“See? I’m doing you a favor. Michael will be humane, at least.”
“What makes you think he’ll come for you?”
“All entities can be summoned,” he said flatly. “I learned that from my mother. All you need is a sigil and a sacrifice.”
I realized what he was doing a second too late as he grabbed onto the soul with both hands and started pulling it apart. “No!” I cried, rushing forward as an awful tearing sound cut through the rhythmic whooshing of the water. The soul gave one last agonized shriek as Dennis tore it down the middle. The ground trembled and sand began to siphon into a hole that opened up, stretching and yawning with a great moan. Dennis staggered back as the tattered remnants of the soul were pulled from his grasp and mingled with the sand, swirling down the chasm like a drain. Horror and grief had me frozen in place as I watched the immutable destruction taking place before me.
The screaming didn’t stop. In fact, it grew louder. I collapsed as the sound built to a piercing crescendo and the ground trembled so violently that even Dennis started backing away from the widening chasm. The whirlwind grew darker as it picked up more gray sand until it formed a solid pillar. All at once, the pillar condensed and warped until it took on the shape of a man. The grains of sand fell away as he moved, leaving behind smooth, olive skin and bronze armor.
The apparition looked at Dennis, then at me, his hand resting on the sword kept in a scabbard at his side. He was tall and muscular, but like Hanael, he might easily have been human if it wasn’t for those eyes. There wasn’t anything strange about the color--a deep brown hue that matched the female angel’s--but there was age in them. Depth that knew no end in time or space. Just looking into those eyes was enough to make me question my own sanity, and I knew without a doubt that this was Michael. If I hadn’t already collapsed, his presence would have brought me to my knees.
“Michael,” I breathed in terror and awe. In the presence of an archangel, there wasn’t a whole lot of difference between the two.
“Whore,” he said by way of formal address rather than epithet. “We meet at last. Have you finally decided to turn yourself in?”
I opened my mouth to answer him when Dennis stepped closer. “I’m the one who summoned you.”
“Summoned?” There was the faintest hint of amusement in Michael’s voice as he turned to face Dennis. “So you’re the one who destroyed a soul before its time.”
“What was left of it,” he said defensively. “Only to give you what you want. He’s the Whore of Babylon.”
“I know what he is.” Michael stepped closer to him and I realized only then that his sandals weren’t quite touching the ground. “Are you aware of the penalty for destroying a soul before Judgment Day?”
Dennis hesitated.
“There is a reason even demons leave behind a remnant,” Michael continued, moving ever closer. Dennis backed up. “To destroy something you had no hand in creating is the sincerest form of blasphemy, punishable only by eternal condemnation to the Pit.”
“I--I only did it to call you!” Dennis cried.
“And so you did.” Michael drew his blade and the Hebraic script carved into the side of it glowed a brilliant blue. The blade plunged into Dennis’ chest and he froze, staring down at it in shock. No blood came from the wound, but when he coughed, a pale blue orb identical to the one Locke had drawn from Daniel’s chest emerged from his mouth. The orb hung in the air for a few seconds before barreling into the void Michael had emerged from. What was left of Dennis turned to ash and pooled at Michael’s feet. He kicked off the dust and turned to face me, returning his blade to its sheath.
“Now, then,” he said in a pleasant tone, “Shall we get on with it?”
“Please,” I choked out. “I was going to turn myself in. I was willing to die, but the apocalypse is going to happen no matter what. Killing me now won’t change it.”
“I am well aware of that, Jedidiah,” he said calmly. Kindly. “But when Lilith sent you back, she altered more than just your timeline. Now that your soul no longer belongs to the demon Locke, there is a chance to keep the gates of Hell from opening. A chance that hinges on your destruction. Now that Lilith is free, I can’t risk her gaining access to Hell’s army.”
“You mean you haven’t found her yet?”
His face fell. “Lilith is no ordinary demon. Did you not think freeing her would have a consequence?”
“I didn’t mean to free her! I didn’t mean for any of this to happen…”
“And yet it did.” He took another step and I flinched as he reached out. When nothing happened, I finally opened my eyes and saw that he was holding his hand out to me, a benevolent expression on his face. “Are you not weary of running, child?”
I pulled my hand back because I felt in danger of taking his. “You’re going to destroy me.”
“There is redemption to be found in death,” he said softly. “For you, only in death. Your soul cannot be allowed to remain.”
“What about the plan?” I challenged. “Isn’t that your job, to make sure it all happens on schedule?”
“The possibility of that happening vanished when you fell into Lucifer’s hands,” he murmured sadly.
“Lucifer? I’ve never even met Lucifer!”
“Bertrand Hurlow is his emissary. They kept you hidden. They planned to use you to take control, as Locke has.”
“And you’re any different?” I cried. “That’s all any of you want. Angels, demons, it doesn’t matter. You’re all in it for the same reason.”
“And what are you in it for?” he asked, tilting his head. “My role is to protect all of creation. You are but a tool that might easily be used to destroy it.”
�
��Isn’t that what Judgment Day is about? Destroying everyone who doesn’t serve your God?” I hissed. “And where is He, anyway?”
Michael was silent.
“You don’t know either, do you?” I pressed. “You don’t know where He is. God either abandoned you or he’s dead, and yet you all play your part like good little toy soldiers.”
The angel’s eyes narrowed. “There is no need for your last words to be blasphemous”
“Blaspheming who?” I asked with a curt laugh. “If God is so offended, why doesn’t he come down here and destroy me himself instead of sending his own ‘emissaries’ to handle his work?”
“Enough,” he growled. The ground trembled as he stepped forward, reaching out to plunge his hand into my chest before I could react. I let out a strangled cry as he gripped my soul, a part of me I’d never even felt until it was being crushed in the angel’s grasp. Heat emanated from his hand, searing me from the inside and I crumpled. “Your soul is a poison and if I pay the price for destroying it before the appointed time, so be it,” he seethed, pulling the glowing orb from my chest. Unlike the other two I’d seen, it was made of pure white light that glowed so brightly I could hardly see through the rays. Michael stared down at it as it rested in his palm and from the look of confusion on his face, I could tell that wasn’t what he’d been expecting.
I gasped, groping at my chest only to find that there was no wound. “I don’t understand,” Michael breathed, looking up from the orb of light in his hand. “What kind of joke is this?”
I shook my head. “What are you talking about? What’s wrong with my soul?”
“It’s not human,” he replied, watching me in a mixture of horror and fascination. “It’s an angel’s.”
“What? I’m not an angel…”
“It’s impossible.” I could tell he wasn’t speaking to me anymore, even if he was speaking about me. He squinted as he stared down at my soul and cocked his head to one side. “Adam?”
The same shrill ringing I’d heard just before my mind pushed back against Nick’s invasion filled the expanse and brilliant white light exploded from the orb, taking over everything. The blast sent me flying into the water, plunging me deep underneath the troubled waves. No matter how I kicked and thrashed, all my efforts to reach the surface only succeeded in dragging me under even deeper. Clouds of shadows formed around me and I could feel the damned souls watching me, but they didn’t attack. Instead, they seemed to part and my suspicion that the water itself was made up of them was confirmed when it receded on either side of me. Not a drop of water touched me, but I kept sinking into what felt and looked like empty space. Darkness.
Somehow, I could still breathe even if I wasn’t sure I needed to, so I forced myself to relax and stop struggling. I kept sinking, but not as fast. For a while, all I did was float as the shock settled in around me and the darkness became all I could see. After what might as easily have been centuries as minutes, a hand thrust down into the darkness, pale white and clawed as it wrapped around my arm and pulled me up.
I gasped sharply as I emerged from the quivering mass of souls onto the same gray shore I’d come from. At least, it looked the same. There was no sign of the town Dennis and I had left behind, so it might have been on the other side of Hell, for all I knew. For the moment, I was more fixated on my rescuer.
It was Locke, only it wasn’t. The demon standing over me had the same sheet white hair and skin, but his catlike eyes were the color of blood and they glowed from the same indefinable lightsource that made Hell’s landscape visible, but that was where the similarities ended. His hands were clawed and fangs pushed down over his bottom lip. There were pale blue markings etched into his skin wherever his silver armor didn’t cover, and thick black horns like a ram’s emerged from the top of his head, curving over the back of it. He was taller, too. He normally towered over me, but my head barely came up to his waist as he leaned down, watching me with an expression I could only read as agitation.
“Locke?”
His eyes narrowed into slits. “Not in this place,” he said in a quiet, dangerous tone. “Here my name is Dhaval. And you,” he paused, his eyes darting over me in judgment, “are even more of a fool than I gave you credit for.”
Twenty-Three
DANIEL
When I woke up in Nick’s bed, I was convinced I was dreaming. I’d woken up on his couch plenty of times. Sometimes his floor, and once in his bathtub after a night of binge drinking that had started out as a contest. If I’d known then that I was up against a werewolf, I wouldn’t have even bothered.
The room was empty and as I sat up, I replayed the events of the night before, trying to gauge how likely it was that it had all been a dream. When I touched my neck, the wound was healed but Nick’s teeth had left a raised scar in the shape of a crescent. So the bite had been real, at least. When I got to my feet and felt the telltale soreness that always came with getting fucked after a long damn time, I realized that part was real, too.
A quick peek through the door revealed that the living room was empty and when I caught a glimpse of the clock on the nightstand, I realized why. It was well past noon on a weekday, so Nick would definitely be at work. I kind of wished he’d woken me up, but if he felt half as awkward as I did, I could understand why he hadn’t. I jumped in the shower to clean up before changing and starting the walk of shame back to my place. As soon as I emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist, the bedroom door flew open and I found myself staring at Nick and Brent.
“Uh...hi?”
“Why are you up?” Nick asked, clearly panicked. “You should be in bed.”
“You really weren’t fucking with me,” Brent said, staring at my neck.
I gripped the towel, still feeling naked. “What are you doing here?” I asked warily.
Brent rolled his eyes. “No need to blush, bro. Not like you’re packing anything I haven’t seen before.”
“Nick?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“I needed him to look at the mark before I get Uncle Luke and the rest of the pack involved, and you were out to the world,” he muttered. He wasn’t meeting my eyes.
“Why would anyone be ‘involved?’” I didn’t like the way that sounded at all.
“Marking is kind of a big deal for werewolves,” said Brent. “It’s a pack affair. The after-part, at least.”
“Great.” Brent walked over, turning my head. “Hey,” I snapped.
He ignored me, brushing his fingers over the bite mark. “Yep, you got him pretty good.”
Nick groaned, rubbing his temple.
“Why aren’t you at work?” I asked.
He gave me a look. “Chris is filling in for me. You seriously think I’d just go back to work after that?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
“You really didn’t explain any of this to him, did you?” Brent asked accusatorily.
“I didn’t plan to mark him,” Nick snapped. “It just happened.”
“Hey, I’ve done my share of fucking and I’ve never ‘just marked’ a chick,” he snorted. “Apparently, you haven’t, either.”
“Fuck off, Brent.”
The weird factor of what had happened last night was nothing compared to being the reason Nick and his formerly-dead brother were arguing. “What does this mean?” I asked, wishing I’d had the energy or presence of mind to bring it up before Brent was “involved.” “Beyond a scar I’m gonna have to cover up.”
“It means --”
“It means a lot of things,” Nick interjected before Brent could speak. “Brent, can you give us a minute?”
“Sure, Nicky,” he smirked, ruffling Nick’s hair. “You and your mate take all the time you need.”
Nick shoved him the rest of the way out the door and shut it behind him. He sighed, letting his head fall back against the door as he leaned against it. “Fuck.”
“Nick. Talk to me,” I pleaded. “What’s going on?”
He l
ooked me over guiltily. “You really should be in bed.”
“I’m fine.” I was better than fine, actually. I felt better than I had in months. “But you need to tell me what this means. Why is Brent calling me your mate?”
“Because you are.”
I blinked. “But Holden --”
“Holden is gone,” he snapped. “Besides that, imprinting doesn’t necessarily make someone your mate. Only marking does that. It’s like how you can meet your soulmate and still not be married to them.”
“So what, we’re werewolf married because you bit me?”
“Something like that, yeah,” he said, folding his arms. “You sure you feel okay?”
“Other than being confused as hell, yeah.”
“I’m sorry. Marking you isn’t something I should have done without talking to you. It’s not something I should have done at all,” he groaned, raking a hand through his hair.
“It’s not like you meant to.” I hesitated, realizing I should probably at least pretend to be upset about this. “Why did you?”
“I got carried away.”
Well, that brought me to the next question at the forefront of my mind. “So...what happened last night,” I began. “Does this mean you don’t regret it?”
He looked up sharply. “What? No. Of course not.”
“I just thought...I don’t know, I mean, that wasn’t planned, either.”
Nick sighed, crossing the room to stand in front of me. He took my face in his hands and his gaze fell to my neck, a small smile on his lips. “Marking you was a fucked up thing to do, but not because I regret what we did. It’s just going to make your life a lot more complicated.”
“I’m good with complicated,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m used to it. It kind of comes with the package, where you’re concerned.”
His smile widened and his thumb swept over my bottom lip. Suddenly, I forgot how to breathe. “You’re not going to be able to avoid my family anymore.”
I hesitated. “Can I still avoid your mom?”
