End of Days: The Complete Trilogy (Books 1-3)

by Meg Collett

  Gabriel picked through the smoldering, wet ash for the pieces of bones that hadn’t burned. He hung the tiny shards from the limbs of the surrounding trees until he formed an almost complete circle around the fire. The bones glinted and twinkled against each other like a morbid set of wind chimes.

  While the ash was still hot, Gabriel set to burying what remained of Beliar. Hanging in the trees and buried in the ground was the only way to bind a demon. Demons could never really be killed. But if Gabriel got every little piece, every speck of ash, maybe Beliar would stay in one place—only as a whisper of a spirit.

  A long time ago, Michaela had taught Gabriel this very ritual. They’d spent many days on Earth binding demons. He went through the motions of the process and imagined her next to him. He heard her bright laughter and voice in his head. It had been a long time since she’d laughed like that. At least with him around. He imagined she probably laughed a good bit with Clark. He’d never been jealous of a human until now. Gritting his teeth, he dug into the ground deeper and harder.

  When the work was done, the forgotten sun had long since set, and the moon was somewhere behind the veil of souls in the sky, Gabriel rocked back onto his heels and took a deep breath. His muscles trembled from the frantic activity. His coat was soaked with sweat, his shirt clinging and dripping. Dirt smudged his fingers and face, but he was careful to remove all the ash from his hands and clothing.

  There were words and rituals to speak and perform while burying a demon. They were on the tip of Gabriel’s tongue, but he didn’t speak them. Beliar didn’t deserve a sacred death. Gabriel had never believed in the concept to begin with. Michaela was always the one to send off the demons the proper way.

  And she wasn’t here now to disapprove.

  Gabriel stood and wiped his grimy hands on his jeans as he surveyed the clearing. Any angel—fallen, holy, or Nephilim—would smell the demon bones and never set foot into the clearing again. Gabriel couldn’t say the same for humans. He just hoped none wandered into the circle. If they did, they likely wouldn’t make it out. Even bound, Beliar could still do damage.

  Standing in the middle of the binding area, Gabriel caught strands of Beliar’s haunting, hollow laughter, like the demon was still mocking him. There was an electric chill in the air that set Gabriel’s teeth on edge and had the hairs on his arms standing on end. A steady pounding started in the back of his head.

  Gabriel walked away with his hands buried deep into his coat pockets with Beliar’s sword hung over his back in a sheath. His head bowed against the howling wind. He listened to what little wildlife remained in the shadow of woods. He would have to return to Lucifer tonight, which meant he would be away from Michaela for a few days.

  Only then did Gabriel let himself consider the consequences of killing Lucifer’s second in command.

  19

  Michaela sat in the den with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. A headache pulsed behind her eyes, sending her vision dancing and blurring. She was exhausted. And the turmoil in her head wasn’t giving her much peace.

  She didn’t know why she’d kissed Gabriel earlier. She had no clue why she let things go so far after all that had happened between them. He was different now. Whether they liked it or not, a line had been drawn between them. She couldn’t trust his alliance anymore.

  But feeling his touch again almost made the mistake worth it. She’d missed him wholly and completely. Just to be close to him again, in that small moment, was the most amazing thing she’d experienced in days.

  The Nephilim of the house passed by the door of the den many times. None looked inside even though they knew she was in there. That was another alliance she didn’t quite trust. She heard a familiar voice outside and looked up. Iris was passing the den’s archway.

  “Hey, Iris,” Michaela called. The calling just popped out, confusing her as much as Iris.

  Iris paused at the den’s entrance. “Yes?”

  Michaela fidgeted under Iris’s serene smile. “Um…do you have a minute? I know you’re busy, but—”

  “Of course, Michaela.” Iris was already inside the den and settling into a chair across from Michaela before she even really knew what she wanted to talk about. “What is it?”

  “Well…” Michaela looked at her hands clenched tightly together. What was it? “Could you maybe tell me about when Isaac came back to you? See, on our way here, he told me about the day in the park when you told him that you were a Nephil. And I was just wondering if you could maybe tell me why he came back to you.”

  Was that it? Michaela wondered. She wanted to hear an old story?

  “Let’s see,” Iris began, struggling to pick up the story. “Well, Isaac took a while to think about it. But two days later, he came and got me from my shift again. We went back out to that very same bench.”

  “What did he say to you? How did you cope with you being a Nephil and him being a Descendant?”

  Iris cocked her head at Michaela’s rushed question. Realization dawned in Iris’s eyes before Michaela even understood herself. Then she realized. Gabriel.

  It always came back to him.

  “I never pretended to be anything I wasn’t with him. We both knew I was his enemy. But when he looked at me, he didn’t see that. He didn’t see an abomination to Heaven.” Iris smiled, her eyes warming. “He just saw me. And I think when he went home to think about it, there wasn’t anything to think about. He couldn’t reconcile me being a Nephil and him being a Descendant, because there was nothing to reconcile. When he thought of me, none of that mattered.”

  Michaela listened to her words and her heart fell. “How can that be though? His whole life, he was trained to hate you. How could he just ignore that?”

  “He was shocked at first, of course. And he left me in the park that day I told him, because he couldn’t ignore it. But he came back to me after a couple days, because, in the end, he found he didn’t have a problem with me. I wasn’t the enemy. He wasn’t the enemy. If we chose it, we could be in this together,” Iris said.

  “Could he look at you and not see you as a Nephil, though?” Michaela asked, her voice raw. The emotions were welling up inside, pressing through her throat.

  “Michaela.” Iris reached forward and took her hand. Michaela didn’t pull it back. “Yes, Gabriel is a fallen. And maybe the fallen have always been your enemy. But is Gabriel your enemy now?”

  “I don’t know,” Michaela whispered. Her eyes fell to the floor, like the wood grain contained all the answers to her questions. “I don’t understand any of this. I feel all these things for him, but when I look at him all I see is a fallen angel. I can’t…I can’t separate that. How did you separate that?”

  “It was a decision I made long before I moved to Kentucky. Isaac made that decision after I told him what I was.” Iris squeezed her hand until Michaela met her eyes. “You can make that decision too.”

  Michaela shook her head. “I don’t know how. That seems so impossible.”

  “You can find a way to see him the way he is now and still love him. But that love has to evolve. Don’t try to keep him as the angel he was. He can’t be that for you anymore.”

  Iris’s voice sounded final. It sounded like the end. Because how could Michaela love anyone other than the angel she was created for? She loved Gabriel for who he was not who he is now. That angel she had spent all eternity with was the one she wanted. Not the one with black eyes and an allegiance to Lucifer.

  “Give yourself a break. Give yourself some time. You’re tired. You’ve been through a lot. So has he. Just slow down, sweetie.”

  Iris stood from her chair. Before Michaela understood what was happening, the Nephil had wrapped her arms around Michaela and hugged her. Michaela was enveloped in Iris’s scent and the soft frizz of her hair.

  “Excuse me.”

  Iris straightened. And Michaela looked to the doorway. Raphael stood under the arch with Uriel smirking at his side. Michaela felt as though she had
been caught doing something wrong. Iris settled a hand on Michaela’s shoulder anyway.

  “I’m glad we talked,” Iris said quietly to Michaela only. She nodded to the Archangels as she left the room.

  Michaela stood when Raphael stepped down into the room. “We all need to meet, including the Nephilim. It’s time we decide how we can fight back.” Raphael seemed to struggle with his next words. “I know you wanted to take down the Aethere, but we can’t get to them through the Watchers. They should be our first priority. Without them, things become much less complicated. So, uh, what do you think?”

  The other Archangels gathered in the door. They all looked at Michaela, waiting for her to reply. Raphael tried to offer her a smile, but it fell flat on his stern face. He was trying, Michaela noticed. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to her. She smiled back, relief washing through her like a cleansing shower.

  “Okay.” Michaela nodded. “We can talk about plans.”

  Simiel smiled brightly, his red hair looking wild. He slapped Uriel on the back. “Quit glowering and go get the Nephilim, you old hag.”

  Uriel didn’t even look shocked as she turned to leave. Only Simiel could make an insult sound like a term of endearment. Ophaniel settled into a chair, tucking her feet underneath her. Simiel sat on the arm beside her. Raphael rolled his massive shoulders.

  “Before the Nephilim get in here, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” Raphael said, sounding very uncomfortable. “We weren’t in your position, so we shouldn’t have judged you for something we couldn’t possibly understand.”

  “I appreciate that.” At Michaela’s words, Raphael nodded tightly and looked away. Michaela smiled fondly at him, because in his way, she knew Raphael really did mean what he said.

  “And Michaela,” Ophaniel started, “we only stayed away because Gabriel told us to lay low. We didn’t understand what was happening, and we had no idea how to find you. But we should’ve tried harder. We should’ve helped you. We would’ve helped you.”

  Her sweet face was so worried, and she looked on the brink of tears. Simiel rubbed her back and nodded at Michaela with Ophaniel’s words. Raphael coughed.

  “We all did what we had to do.” Michaela shrugged, reminding herself of Clark. He would’ve known exactly what to say in this moment to make everyone feel better. “So let’s try to forget our grudges and move on.”

  Uriel walked in right then. The twisted, angry look on her face told Michaela all she needed to know. She may have some of her Archangels back, but Uriel would always hate her for what had happened to Zarachiel.

  “Uriel,” Michaela said, unsure of how to say the words. “For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry about Zarachiel.”

  Uriel’s arms snaked across her chest like she wanted to ward off Michaela’s words. “Your endless, meaningless apologies mean nothing to me.”

  There was no more time to talk, because a horde of Nephilim, including others who lived nearby, swarmed into the room. Every seat was taken and most stood pressed against the walls. Raphael stood in the center and called everyone to attention. When everyone was silent, he looked to Michaela, bowing his head slightly.

  It didn’t make everything perfect, but it was a start. For the first time in a while, Michaela looked around the room and didn’t feel alone.

  20

  The Archangels and the Nephilim were meeting to figure out a course of action. Everyone was there, hunkered in the farmhouse’s den. Everyone but Clark.

  No one had invited him to the meeting. Or even told him it was happening. So he wasn’t surprised when a burly Nephil had shouldered him out of the room. Not that Clark cared that much. But he couldn’t help feeling like the outsider.

  He wasn’t a full Nephil, but he wasn’t completely human either. He hadn’t allowed himself to think much about it, and he didn’t start now.

  He trudged across the lawn of frozen mud and dead locusts to make his way up the sloping hill that had probably once blossomed with wildflowers and tall weeds, but was now only covered with brown, frosted grass and long shadows. He flopped to the ground and struggled to get comfortable on the cold, wet earth.

  With a sigh, he stared at the hazy, gray sky. Nighttime had fallen. The moon, like the sun, was lost behind the souls. Its light merely cast a silver glow over the clouds, making the sky look metallic and jagged like the weapon it was. Soon no warmth would make its way to Earth, and what had survived this long would be left to freeze or starve.

  Someone walked up the hill toward him. Clark knew who it was by their slight footsteps over the frigid ground. Sophia sat beside him, but Clark didn’t look away from the sky. The Nephil smelled sweet—like summertime flowers even in the barren landscape around them. Clark wondered how she did it.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey.” Clark sat up with a grunt. Sophia’s gray eyes were piercing. Her strawberry blond hair was carefully tucked underneath a hand-knitted wool cap. Underneath the supernatural sky, she looked every bit the daughter of angel.

  “Why are you sitting out here?”

  “The Nephilim kicked me out,” Clark said, slouching deeper into the warmth of his jacket. He tried to hide his blue fingers before Sophia noticed, but it was too late.

  “You didn’t take your gloves with you.” She pulled out his favorite pair of lined leather gloves and handed them to him.

  Clark shook his head. “I’m good.”

  “Take the gloves, Clark. Stop being so stubborn,” Sophia said. She held the gloves out until Clark took them. His hands were so numb he had trouble wiggling his fingers down into the holes.

  “Did you bring my hat too?”

  Sophia looked up with a smile before she pulled out his toboggan. Clark yanked it down over his ears as she said, “If you hold my hand I could make the air around us warmer.”

  Clark knew she could warm the cold air with a simple word, but it would exhaust her to do it even for a short time. “I’m fine.”

  “Clark, I...” Sophia trailed off, uncertain. She looked at him with wide eyes, her pink lips parting just slightly. A blush crept up her neck. Clark’s eyes settled back on her lips. Before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned over and kissed her.

  Her lips felt as perfect as he’d imagined. She was frozen for a second before her lips moved against his. He felt her uncertainty as she tried to match his movements. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

  But she pulled away.

  “Clark, I can’t,” she said. She bit her lip, distracting him from what she had just said.

  “What? Why not?” Clark said, frowning. He knew she liked him.

  “You’re…I mean, you’re a…” Sophia stammered.

  “I’m a what?” Clark straightened away from her.

  Sophia took a deep breath. “Your mom is a very powerful Nephil, but your dad is…you’re a half-breed.”

  “Excuse me?” Clark couldn’t hide his shock. “What the hell is a half-breed?”

  “I’m only allowed to marry a full blooded Nephil. Only your mother has the right blood,” Sophia said. She sounded like a robot, spitting out facts that were told to her. Clark snorted.

  “Let’s get something straight right now. That was my tongue I put in your mouth not a ring. I wasn’t proposing. And my dad is a great man and so is his blood or whatever.”

  “Wait, Clark. Don’t be mad—”

  “Too late,” Clark said. He looked away, his eyes scanning the dark tree line.

  “We need to talk about this!” Sophia seemed genuinely surprised he was upset. But he didn’t care. He didn’t know how to feel about anything anymore.

  “What’s there to talk about?”

  “There’s a lot to talk about. I want to explain.” Sophia reached for his hand, but Clark pulled away.

  “You don’t need to explain anything to me,” Clark said, his teeth beginning to chatter. Sophia snatched his hand. She was too quick for him. Imm
ediately the air warmed around his face. The tension in his lungs from the frosty bite of the oxygen eased, allowing the muscles in his shoulders and chest to relax.

  “Well, I’m going to. So you need to shut up and listen.” Sophia scooted around in front of him, her grip on his fingers tight. He couldn’t avoid looking at her now. Her stare was relentless. Even though she was tiny and half his weight, Clark was a teeny bit scared of her.

  “Whatever.”

  “The Nephilim have weird ways. We had to adopt them over the years to protect ourselves and our powers. The angels hunted us. We weren’t free to just live. We had to stay sheltered, protect ourselves. It meant we had to make certain adaptations within our community.”

  “Like what?” Clark asked, his curiosity winning out over his injured pride.

  “No one cares that you’re a half-breed. Technically, Nephilim are allowed to marry whoever they want. So there are a many half-breeds in our community,” Sophia said carefully.

  “What’s the big deal then?”

  “We have to protect ourselves, and part of that protection means that we have to ensure our powers do not fade through too many incompatible matches.”

  Clark stayed quiet even though Sophia paused, waiting for him to ask what she meant. He already knew.

  “We protect ourselves by only breeding two Nephilim together. Intermarriages between a Nephil and a human are allowed, but frowned upon. The pairing between a Nephil and a human has to be beneficial to all the members of the community, like when your mother married your dad. Their marriage gained us protection within the Descendants of Enoch.”

  “Just so we are clear, I didn’t expect us to get married tomorrow.” Clark muttered the words, but Sophia heard.

  “It’s a serious matter. We have to be careful when deciding the best matches for our young people. Yes, they’re arranged marriages most of the time, and I understand that makes us look antiquated. But it is the only way.”

  “After all these years of Nephilim marrying Nephilim, there has to be some inbreeding.”

  Sophia cringed. When she opened her eyes again, Clark saw she was begging him to understand. “We have to do whatever it takes to survive. There is some of…that, because there’s not many full blooded Nephilim left. But it’s rare and only occurs when it’s unavoidable. There are so many Nephilim communities like ours all over the world, so that happens very, very rarely.”