Samael relented. “He wants to see if you’re capable of reassembling the Lapis Exillis. Then he’ll know he’s in deep angel crap. You can already use my scythe, quite well. It’s only a matter of time until we move on to the other archdemons’ weapons.”
I rested. “Right, I almost forgot about that thing. What do I have to do to use it?”
“Each shard of the Lapis Exillis is attuned to a different archdemon. You’d have to be possessed by all seven of them to reassemble it.”
I looked at the ground. “It’s one thing when you possess me – I know you. But the other archdemons creep me out. I’m still not comfortable with the whole demon thing.”
Samael sharpened his scythe with a whetsone. He lazed on a wooden fence. “Which is why we’ll move gradually.”
Anxiety gripped me. “What if I can’t do it? What if being possessed by so many demons hurts me?”
“I won’t let that happen.” He tucked his whetstone into his pocket. “You did well today. You’ve improved dramatically since August.”
“Thanks.” I paused. “About what you said the night before Valentine’s Day.”
He looked at me blankly. “I said something?”
I looked at my feet. “Yeah. When we were in the cave. You said you, um, well. You said the L-word.”
“Damn. I thought you were asleep. Actually, I think I was asleep?”
I blushed. “How can you say that and then call me maggot? It’s like you look down on me.”
His lips drew thin. “I don’t look down on you. It’s a term of affection. Maggots are valuable to the ecosystem - they decompose things. Would you prefer I call you tapeworm? Or larva? Perhaps nematode?”
“Sam, stop. Stop avoiding what matters.”
“What?”
“The L-word!”
Black slashed across my vision.
“Shannon!” Samael said.
Something warm rolled down my neck. I crumpled to the ground, waterfalls in my ears.
“Touch her, and I’ll slice her neck clean through,” came a clarion voice.
Cold metal pressed against me. My surroundings spun. “The hell?” I moaned, struggling to move.
The metal bit into my flesh. I yelped.
The voice came again: “Move, and your head comes off. All I need is your heart.”
I lay still.
“Damn Nephilim,” Samael said. He brandished his scythe.
I heard a revolver click. “Take a step closer, and I’ll shoot. Adamant stings, doesn’t it?”
Samael froze. “You’re bluffing. She’s too valuable to kill.”
“To you, maybe. But for my father, all we need is what you gave her, so many eons ago.”
Samael bared his fangs. “Who’s bastard are you?”
A plump girl stepped into my vision. She had olive skin and long, black ringlets of hair. “My father is the mender of the universe.”
Samael’s lips drew thin. “And what does Raziel want with my heart?”
The Nephilim narrowed her eyes. “He has looked into the threads of fate and seen the chaos the Magdalene will cause. She needs to be terminated. Your heart will be used to power the disalignment of the otherworlds and ensure Heaven’s dominion.”
“Why are you so forthcoming with information?” Samael said, still not moving.
The Nephilim gave a quick laugh. “Because there is nothing you can do. We are bold enough to do what Michael cannot. Your twin is too soft. It is his undoing.”
Samael’s temple throbbed. “Michael’s honor is the only thing that’s held Heaven together. Your father is selfish. He’s only in it for himself. You’re Raziel’s tool – nothing more. Why else would he have sired you?”
Her eyes flashed. “I’m his daughter. The love he has for me is something you would never understand, heartless as you are.”
I bled down the back of my throat. I coughed it up.
“Don’t move!” she said.
I gagged.
“Let me heal her,” Samael said. “She’s losing blood.”
The Nephilim cocked her gun to the side. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”
Samael launched at the Nephilim, who fired a round into his chest. Samael stumbled to my side.
“Damn adamant. Where do people keep getting it?” he said. He slashed the Nephilim with his scythe, drawing a deep cut across her back.
She cried out.
Samael could barely stand. “Run,” he said. “That bullet was blessed by Metatron. It’s too potent. I have to fight dirty - things will get ugly.”
The Nephilim ambled closer. She clutched her back.
I struggled to rise. “I can’t stand.”
Samael cursed, then turned to the Nephilim. “You picked the wrong day to piss me off.”
She gritted her pearly teeth. “Did I?” She spread yellow wings, the feathers streaked with blood.
Samael’s body disintegrated into darkness. He expanded and enveloped the Nephilim. She waved her weapons, trying to fight back as he choked her lungs.
Samael possessed her against her will. Her eyes rolled back as her body contorted into impossible positions. She levitated, limbs askew, teeth gnashing.
I flinched.
Someone grabbed me and slipped a mask over my head.
“Shannon!” Samael rasped through Noor’s throat. Her body thumped to the ground.
“Contain him,” came a familiar voice – Azazel. Scarred arms lifted me off the ground.
I couldn’t see past the mask. The Watcher carried me away. There was a great pounding; things crashed. The air was tinged iron with blood. The Nephilim’s screams laced with Samael’s curses.
“Let me go,” I said, kicking my captor. The blows didn’t land. I was too disoriented from the beating Noor had dealt me.
“Shut her up,” said Sariel.
“I’ll do it,” came a silky voice. Semyaza. He punched the base of my neck, and I blacked out.
Chapter 20
I awoke in chains, strapped to a gurney in what looked like an abandoned hospital. The ceiling had caved in at the corners, and operating tables were strewn across the room. The Watchers stood round me, and an olive-skinned angel loomed at the head of my bed. He had the same features and big boned-structure as Noor. The angel flipped a scalpel between his forefinger and thumb.
“She’s come to,” Semyaza said. His eye-hollows bore into me.
The March air bit my skin. My torso ached. I looked down to see my shirt ripped open. Incisions crisscrossed my chest, sewn up with thick stitches. I screamed.
“Hush, darling,” Raziel said, his voice comforting. “I was simply probing around. You’ll live. I’ve just assessed you. You really are our dear Eve. Don’t you remember me? I taught you to sew.”
I cried. “No. You didn’t. You’re a monster.”
Raziel chuckled. “Actually, I’m an archangel. But you, you have an archangel’s heart. A very special heart. The first seal of the Apocalypse.”
I paled. “You’ve been smoking some jacked-up weed, creep.”
Raziel wiped my blood off his scalpel. “Samael is the fourth horseman of the Apocalypse. He is the master of the other horsemen, and his heart is the key to unlocking the first apocalyptic seals.”
I struggled against my chains. “Your daughter said you were going to disalign the otherworlds. Not start the end of the world.”
Raziel’s smile thinned. “My daughter is too faithful to Father. She wouldn’t understand my plan.”
“So you decided to side with the Watchers?”
Raziel shrugged. “These gentlemen are my brothers. Anyhow, the Watchers and I have a long history of experimentation. No one quite understands my endeavors like them.”
Azazel smiled. “We’ve been through a lot, haven’t we? We’ve built empires, kept secrets, taught humans marvels, been misunderstood by Father. It’s a pity you weren’t imprisoned with us in Dudael. You learn much, watching centuries pass. Waiting to be released.”
Raziel set his scalpel down on the gurney. “I was busy during your imprisonment, searching for the seals. I needed to wait until the right opportunity to free you.”
Azazel nodded. “I understand. And here we are. Our dreams so close to realization.”
Semyaza removed latex gloves. They were stained with my blood. “Her biology is fascinating. Seemingly human, yet not. How did you form her?”
“You don’t have a thing to do with me!” I said. Sweat beaded on my brow.
Raziel wiped my blood from his hands. “I’m the Secretkeeper, Shannon. And what is a secret but a hidden desire? I know things the Lord does not. I see things my Father cannot. The universe is my tapestry, its secrets my threads. I knew Eve’s wish at the hour of her death, and I granted it. She wanted to escape mortality, so I helped her. I guided your ancestors and inspired them to produce a genetic line close to the original woman, until one day, you were born: the identical match of Eve, down to the last nucleic acid. And aren’t you a marvel? The Whore of Babylon, mate of the Beast. Eve, the mother of sin.”
“Did you call me a whore?” I said.
Raziel placed a hand on my shoulder. “No. But humanity does. What else would they regard the Devil’s lover as?”
I was flustered. “Gross. No one says lover anymore except for Nicholas Sparks.”
The Watchers laughed.
Raziel squeezed my shoulder. “You and Samael will fall into your old pattern: loving and hating, bringing ruin wherever you go. The Whore rides the Beast and brings reckoning to Earth. Your destinies are entwined, and I will not stop you. On the contrary, I will help.”
I scoffed. “You’re like a frigging Bond villain. All you need are shark tanks. No thanks, I’m not interested in destroying the world.”
Raziel brushed hair back from my sweaty head. “No. I will help you make it anew.”
I looked down at my sewn up chest, and choked back bile. “You give insane asylums a run for their money.”
Raziel glanced at the manacles on my wrists and ankles. They unlocked, leaving red marks on my skin. “Sit up, darling.”
I gathered my shirt, trying to cover my breasts.
Azazel laughed. He knocked my hands away from my sweater, letting the fabric fall open. “Now now. Modesty never became Eve.”
I spat in his eye socket.
Azazel wiped the saliva away, grinning. “That’s the spirit.”
“What are we waiting for?” Sariel said. “Let’s put this bitch to work.”
“No. The girl is scared. We will treat her with the utmost delicacy,” Raziel said. He swept my chains to the floor and offered me his hand. I swatted it away.
“Get away from me, Dr. Frankenstein,” I said.
Raziel edged closer. “I’m only here to aid you. Can’t you see? I’m helping you fulfill the purpose you were born for.”
I wished to high heaven for my petersword. It had been knocked out of my hand when the Nephilim attacked. “Over my dead body.”
“Darling,” Raziel said, voice quiet. “All I need is your heart. Now, will you open it to us, or should we force it from you?”
My arms formed an X over my chest. I shook my head. “This is insane. I’m not the Whore of Babylon. Eve I can deal with, but saying I’m some Satanic slut is too much.”
“Just what I wanted to hear,” Sariel said, taking the scalpel from the gurney. “This is for the lightning bolt.”
Raziel raised a hand to stop him. “Wait. Give her a moment to decide. This can be easy, or quite painful.”
The Watchers closed in, their empty eyes drilling into my brain. I could feel their cold breath on my skin.
Sariel brought the scalpel to my throat. “All it takes is one cut.”
“No.”
Sariel pressed the blade into my skin, drawing a line of blood.
“Stop,” Raziel said. “She’s more useful alive. There are other ways.”
Sariel cursed, but lowered the scalpel. “So that’s how you’re playing?” he said. “Should I carve your mother’s brain out? Scoop out your father’s kidneys? What little tortures will it take to make you comply?”
The blood drained from my face. “You wouldn’t.”
Azazel chuckled. “Oh, Sariel would.”
I looked to Raziel.
The archangel shrugged. “Your family is expendable, dear.”
“I’ll kill you!”
Raziel’s haunting smile was back. “No worries. Just do as I say.”
I looked at my feet, realizing how helpless I was. I couldn’t let my family be hurt by my weakness, added to the list of my ever-expanding collection of screw-ups.
“Okay,” I finally said, thinking of mom, dad, and Mo. “Just don’t hurt them.”
“I knew you’d see the light,” Raziel said. “Now, relax, and place your hand over your heart.”
I did as he said, my arm trembling. “Why are you doing this?”
Raziel put his hands on my shoulders. He leaned in, close. “Think of it as carding wool. The universe needs to be purified. The Apocalypse will do that. It will restore order and give my brothers a place to start over. No judgment, just freedom. Wouldn’t you like that?”
Tears welled in my eyes.
Raziel sighed. “It may be painful now, dear, but you will see the benefits soon enough. Close your eyes. Empty your mind. Reach into your heart, and release your fear. Let go of your anger. Be cleansed of it.”
I closed my eyes and struggled to be calm. “You sound like a patchouli-snorting New Age guru,” I said, voice strained.
Raziel laughed. “Focus. Be at peace.”
I honed in on my heartbeat, remembering the familiar twist of my petersword. I echoed the motion over my chest.
Fire in my skin.
I crumpled onto the gurney. Light poured from my ribs, up my throat, out my mouth. From my screams rose three riders: one white as a corpse, one red as war, the last dark, like dried blood. The specters raged around the room on burning horses. They galloped up through the ceiling.
Raziel clapped. “Go forth, riders, seek a host in kindred flesh, and make the world anew,” the archangel said.
I curled in on myself. My head pounded. “Why didn’t Samael tell me that those – those things were inside me?” I choked.
Azazel grinned, revealing jagged teeth. “Funny how he kept this from you, isn’t it? Perhaps he thought you’d run away if you found out that you’re the bringer of the Apocalypse.”
I tore at my hair. “But he said I was the Magdalene! That I was supposed to save people.”
Semyaza snorted. “Perhaps to Hell, you’re a savior. But to Heaven, you’re nothing more than the Devil’s whore.”
“No.” I wept.
Raziel smoothed my hair. “Don’t fret. We’ve begun a glorious undertaking.”
The door fell to the floor. In stormed Damien, in werewolf form, and Samael, his scythe drawn.
“You filthy sons of Gorgons,” Samael said.
The Watchers scattered, drawing their guns. Damien sank his fangs into Sariel’s throat.
Samael roared, making for Raziel. Raziel drew silvery thread from his pocket and wove it around the Reaper. Samael tripped, caught in Raziel’s web. He tore it apart with his scythe, but by the time he escaped, Raziel had slipped into the hall.
“We’ll meet again soon,” Raziel called.
Samael looked to me and cursed. “No,” he said. “Damien, they’ve done something to her. Let them go, I need to heal Shannon.”
Damien relaxed his bite. Sariel threw him against a wall. Damien slumped to the ground.
Sariel wiped blood from his neck. “Let’s go.”
Azazel and Semyaza nodded. The Watchers crashed through a window, out into the night.
Samael’s eyes were wild. He came to my side and pulled down my shirt, examining the extent of my surgery. He sucked in air. “Oh god, Shannon. Oh god.”
I cried. “They – they cut me open. They made me break a seal or something. Why didn’t
you tell me? Why!”
Samael’s eyes widened. “They did what?”
“These – these things came out of me. Horsemen? What the holy shitake mushroom. Damn it, why didn’t you tell me I’m the effing Whore of Babylon?”
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