by G. K. DeRosa
Declan revved the engine and threw me a grin. “You ready?”
I buckled my seatbelt and settled into my seat. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Oh boy, here we go again. Why did I get the feeling there were more underground caves in our future?
After the grueling twelve-hour drive from Chicago, the run-down old brownstone in the Upper West Side looked like a dream home.
“Hurry, get inside.” Declan rushed us up the steps as the last shred of daylight seeped through the cloudy sky.
We were in the heart of vampire territory now. Being inside at nightfall was crucial to our survival. We almost hadn’t made it in time. All of the bridges leading into Manhattan had been destroyed and the tunnels blocked. During the war, the angels had tried to starve out the vampires. Unlike their heavenly counterparts, vampires couldn’t fly. That was how the bloodsuckers nearly decimated the entire population of Manhattan.
It had taken Declan almost an hour to clear enough rubble out of the Lincoln Tunnel so that we could get the car through. The drive up the West Side Highway had been a quick one without a single vehicle on the road. The streets reeked of desolation and death.
The old brownstone had been split into multiple apartments. Two on the first floor and two on the second. Declan darted ahead to check them out as Sammarah, Duke and I waited anxiously at the entrance foyer. Black and white subway tile lined the floors and went half way up the walls. A beat up wooden staircase led up to the second floor where Declan’s steps were met by squealing wood planks.
“This one’s clear,” Declan shouted from above.
As soon as we were inside the small apartment, I let out a breath. Declan slammed the door behind us and immediately got to work on the windows. “We need to make sure all the windows are sealed. No light in or out.”
I nodded, pulled out my flashlight and headed toward the bedroom. Uncle Azazel’s apartment looked gigantic compared to this tiny four hundred square foot space. To think people used to spend thousands of dollars to rent a place like this. But that was before…
I rifled through an armoire and found some sheets and a blanket. Declan had already taped up the two living room windows with some towels he must have found in the tiny bathroom. I handed him the sheets, and he reinforced the door. One small window remained in the kitchenette and another one in the bedroom. Tearing the last sheet in two, we had the rest covered in minutes.
Sammarah lit a few candles and placed them on the table next to the couch. At least it was a decent size. With only one bedroom, one of us would definitely be spending the night on it. Butterflies the size of birds took flight in my belly at the thought of whom.
A massive stone fireplace sat across from the couch, and once again I thanked my lucky stars it wasn’t winter. Lighting a fire wouldn’t have been an option, and we would’ve surely frozen to death by now. The balmy spring heat was tolerable at least. When summer came, that would be another story.
“Let’s eat, and get some rest.” Declan pried open three cans of beans and placed them on the table along with three plastic spoons.
Bleh. I was so tired of canned food. I’d give anything for a nice juicy burger and greasy fries.
I huffed and dug in as Declan paced the length of the apartment. He’d been on edge ever since we crossed into the city. Duke whined and placed his paw on my leg. I threw him a couple beans, and he settled back down on the floor by my feet.
Sammarah flipped through Azazel’s pages of notes as she distractedly spooned beans into her mouth.
“How’s it coming?” I asked, choking down another bite. I wasn’t even hungry anymore.
“It’s this part that I can’t quite figure out, and I know it’s the key.” She pointed at the line of script:
Follow the conduit of the wicked upon her.
Traverse the path the holy see,
To discover whom the righteous is to be.
Declan stopped pacing and lowered himself onto the couch on the other side of his mom. He scrunched his dark brows as he scrutinized the text. “Who is the ‘her’?”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out.”
“And conduits?” I asked. “Like channels?”
“Or tunnels,” said Declan, his eyes brightening. “There are thousands of miles of tunnels running under the city.”
“Precisely.” She gave her son a smile.
“I don’t get this – what did the holy see?” I had never been good at riddles.
“We’ll figure it out. I know we will. We’re close; I can feel it.”
I rolled my neck, stretching out my back and a yawn escaped. “All I can feel is exhaustion.”
“Why don’t you two get some rest?” Sammarah ticked her head toward the bedroom. “I’m going to stay up a little longer.”
Did she seriously give us permission to sleep in the same bed together? Wow, the apocalypse really did change things.
“Yeah, maybe that’s what I need.” Declan stood, his eyes dancing mischievously as he regarded me.
I darted into the room before my cheeks turned bright red. “Night, Sammarah,” I said over my shoulder.
“Declan, wait,” his mom whispered, stopping me in my tracks.
I stepped into the bedroom, but I lingered by the door totally eavesdropping.
“Can we please finish that discussion we started back in Virginia? The question you asked me about your powers and dying?”
Declan shushed her. “It was nothing, Mom. I told you. Just a hypothetical question that I never should’ve brought up.”
The sound of his footsteps across the hardwood floor sent me flying into the bed. I rolled over to face the side away from the door and closed my eyes. He crawled onto the mattress, the old springs squeaking in protest at his large frame.
He wrapped an arm around my waist and nuzzled the back of my neck. “Goodnight, Liv.” His warm breath tickled my ear, sending a wave of goose bumps across my skin. How does he do that?
“Night, Declan,” I whispered. I wanted to trust him, but the closer we got, the more certain I was that he was still hiding something.
Would I ever really know Declan?
Chapter 10
Declan jolted up and my eyes snapped open, immediately sensing the lack of body heat around me.
“What’s the matter?” I croaked.
He stared at the covered window, deep lines marking his forehead. “I heard something,” he whispered.
Darting out of bed, he padded into the living room, his bare feet silent on the old floor. I followed him, peeking around the corner of the doorway to the sitting room. Sammarah slept peacefully on the couch, the Book of Salvation and a pile of paper on top of her chest.
The sharp crack of glass shattering behind me rang out in the silence. I spun around as shards from the window flew toward me like deadly missiles.
“Get down!” shouted Declan, but I didn’t have his lightning-fast angel reflexes.
Sharp projectiles pierced my flesh, and a scream tore out of my mouth as I hit the floor. Four nephilim flew through the open window, landing in the small room. Their towering figures and broad wings filled the space and left me breathless.
Declan charged into the room, his fiery angel sword alive in his palm. His eyes ran over me before turning to the intruders. “What do you want?” he roared.
“The same thing our brothers came for before,” one of the tall blondes answered. He and the guy next to him looked like twins. “Sammarah and the book.”
I pushed myself off the ground, trying to avoid the slivers of glass. Declan’s intense gaze landed on me, his eyes pleading me not to move, not to draw attention to myself. Too bad that wasn’t an option. Declan might have been good, but there was no way he could take on four of them alone.
Declan lunged at the twins before they could even summon their swords.
Sammarah raced into the bedroom, her long dark hair as crazy as her eyes. Something sleek and black flashed across my periphery,
and a blade plunged into one of the angels’ backs.
The dark-haired nephilim did a belly flop onto the floor, his massive body shaking the ground beneath me. Without missing a beat, Sammarah crouched down beside the dead angel and yanked the onyx dagger out of his back.
“How did you do that?” I stuttered.
“A gift from Azazel. He was right; it did come in handy.”
I stared in shock at the obsidian blade coated in deep crimson. I’d never seen anything like it. “What is it?”
“A special weapon forged with demon blood and the uncanny ability to kill angels and nephilim on the spot.” A sinister smile curled her lips.
Our moment of triumph was short-lived. The third nephilim, the tallest of the bunch, launched his sword across the room, knocking the dagger out of Sammarah’s hand. The blade clattered to the floor and slid under the bed.
Son of a vampire!
He leapt into the air and grabbed Sammarah, throwing her over his broad shoulder.
“Declan!” I screamed as I rifled under the bed in search of the demon knife. He was busy with the identical angels, but he was the only one that could save his mom.
He spun around, his expression falling as the nephilim raced into the living room with his mom dangling over his back. “No!” he shouted.
With his attention diverted, one of the twins plunged his sword into Declan’s side. A spine-tingling shriek filled the air, and it took me a second to realize the scream had come from my lips.
Declan pressed his hand to his side as blood poured out of the wound. It didn’t stop him though. He raced out of the room with the angel twins right behind him. For a second, the bedroom was silent except for my haggard panting.
I sucked in a breath and stretched my arm as far as I could reach under the bed. My fingers closed around cold metal, and I almost jumped for joy. Tucking the blade into my sweatpants, I ran out of the bedroom, sidestepping over the dead body.
They were gone.
Only Duke remained in the sitting room, barking like crazy at the door.
I sprinted down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Barreling through the front door, cool air hit my face and I froze.
Declan had one angel by the throat, his twin lay on the ground, a pool of blood underneath him. The taller nephilim still had Sammarah over his shoulder and was surrounded by at least half a dozen vampires.
Crap. This was really bad.
A huge vampire with a flaming red mohawk moved forward. He spread his hands wide, and a wicked sneer twisted his lips. “Welcome to vampire territory, sons of heaven. To what, may I ask, do we owe the pleasure?”
Declan released his hold on blondie and turned to the vamp entourage. “We were just passing through when we were attacked by these nephilim soldiers. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the sons of heaven have no reason to be in your territory.”
Mohawk guy arched a brow. “I’m confused. Your scent marks you as one of them and yet… There’s something peculiar about you.”
“I’m not one of them, and that’s all that matters.”
The vamp eyed Sammarah then turned his dark gaze to me. He licked his lips, and a chill crawled up my spine.
“And the humans?” He averted his eyes back to Declan, and my frantic heartbeats slowed a notch.
“They’re under my protection, brethren.”
Brethren? Why did that sound weirdly familiar?
The vampire nodded and whispered something to his lackeys. Then he darted toward the two nephilim still standing. His fangs descended as he glared at the taller one. “Per the terms of the Accord, all humans in vampire territory are ours.”
The soldier opened his mouth as if to argue, but his companion jabbed him in the side. He lowered Sammarah to her feet, glowering at the vampire.
“Now get out of here, both of you, before I report your trespassing to Nathanael.”
Nathanael? My gaze darted to Declan’s, but he refused to meet my eyes. I knew his father was the leader of the angels. A thick lump formed in the back of my throat. For once, I wasn’t happy about being right.
The nephilim unfolded their wings and took off into the dark sky. My eyes followed them upward, creepily entranced by their magnificence. The first rays of light began to seep through the heavy cloud coverage. That meant the vampires had to head home, right?
The vampire crew still eyed us curiously. I fought the urge to run away screaming, their sharp fangs, pale skin and sunken eyes freaking me out.
Sammarah slumped down to the ground, breaking the odd standoff. Declan sped over and slid down beside her. My feet suddenly started moving, and I joined them on the asphalt.
“What’s wrong?” Declan’s panicked eyes moved over his mother. He released a sharp hiss, his nose twitching.
Sammarah unfolded her body, revealing a dark red stain across her navy shirt. I sucked in a breath.
“How did it happen?” Declan muttered, his eyes turning glassy.
A sad chuckle slipped from her pressed lips. “It was my own fault. I was struggling against the nephilim and got caught up with his angel blade. I don’t think he even realized it.”
“No…” Declan raked his hands through his hair.
I squeezed Sammarah’s hand. “Everything will be okay. Declan will heal you. Right?”
Maroon burned through Declan’s irises, fury flashing below the surface. “I can’t. My healing power doesn’t work on angel weapons.”
A boulder lodged in my throat. “What?” I croaked.
“I can’t save her!” he hissed through clenched teeth.
I sat back on my heels, the intensity of Declan’s words hitting me like a fist to the gut.
Footsteps dragging across concrete yanked our attention to the approaching vampire. For a moment, I’d forgotten they were still there.
The vamp’s intense gaze cast down on Sammarah and then landed on Declan. “I’ll give you privacy to say your goodbyes. We’ll be back to collect you at dusk.”
Back? I couldn’t even process the meaning of his words as Sammarah’s labored breaths slowed.
“Wait!” I cried. “Can’t your blood save her?”
A sinister laugh escaped Red Mohawk’s thin lips. “That’s only in the movies, human.”
Invisible iron bands tightened around my heart as I glanced down at Sammarah’s pale face. It wasn’t fair. Hot tears pricked at my eyes, but I refused to cry in front of these monsters.
As if they’d heard my thoughts, Red Mohawk motioned to the pack and they sped away in a dark blur, leaving us to a much darker reality.
Chapter 11
“Declan. Declan!” I shoved him in the shoulder until he looked at me.
Sammarah was cradled in his arms, the deep red staining her shirt a stark contrast to her white skin. A blank, expressionless mask had slipped over his face as he knelt on the asphalt.
“Let’s get her inside,” I whispered.
He nodded, still not quite meeting my gaze and rose. I trailed after him as he staggered up the steps, Sammarah’s head hanging limply over his arm. Nausea crept up my throat as I dodged splatters of blood on the wooden staircase. Sammarah’s divine blood.
How did this happen? How could it happen? Sammarah had to save us. She had to save the world.
Declan kicked the entrance door open and lowered Sammarah onto the couch. Strands of raven hair clung to her clammy forehead, a sheen of sweat coating her pallid skin. He knelt beside her and gently pulled her shirt up, revealing a deep wound across her stomach. I gasped and averted my gaze.
Declan inhaled deeply and placed his palms over the jagged cut. A warm glow swirled in the air, and I held my breath. Maybe it would work. I stared at the gaping wound, willing the angry red flesh to miraculously mend.
Declan slumped forward and dropped his hands. My heart sank.
“I’m sorry, son,” Sammarah murmured.
“What are you sorry for? I’m the one that failed to protect you.” He reached for her hand, squeezin
g it between his two big ones.
She slowly shook her head. “No. I was the one that failed to protect you. I should’ve been there for you all these years. I’m so sorry I wasn’t. We lost so many precious moments.”
“Don’t, Mom. Save your energy.”
“Please. I need to get this out. I don’t have much time.” She paused, clenching her teeth. “I love you, Declan and I’m so proud of the man you’ve become. You are a good person and don’t you ever forget it. That goodness comes from your human side—the other ones don’t matter.” She tilted her head to me and offered a weak smile, then turned back to Declan. “Take care of Liv. She’s special. Promise me you won’t let anything happen to her.”
Hot tears burned my eyes. I blinked rapidly to force them back, but it was no use. A tear trickled down my cheek.
“I promise, Mom.”
“You have to continue my work. It’s up to the two of you now to find the shield of light and put an end to all of this.” She pulled the Book of Salvation from a crevice in the couch. “Don’t let this fall into the wrong hands.”
“Mom, don’t… Don’t worry about any of that.” He took the book and slid it under the sofa.
She reached her hand out to me and I quickly took it, kneeling down by Declan’s side. A chill raced through me as her cold fingers laced around mine. “I’m so sorry, Sammarah,” I choked out.
“Don’t be. Everything happens as it’s meant to. I’m happy you’ve found each other.” She closed her eyes and her head fell back.
“Mom?” Panic laced his voice.
“It’s fine, son. I need to rest.”
I squeezed her hand, my eyes intent on the sluggish rise and fall of her chest. It was barely perceptible now. A contented smile slid across her lips, and she stilled.
“Mom?” Declan shot up, releasing her hand.
A brilliant light ignited in her chest and zipped down her arm to her fingers still clasping mine. A jolt of electricity whizzed through my hand, propelling me back against the coffee table. I staggered to keep my balance as the dazzling glow encircled my body, lighting me up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. I stared wide-eyed at my radiant hands and arms, my breath caught in my throat.
