Once again, I saw the seeds of death in the world around me. “Someday, everything in the universe will fall into a black hole, ripped apart by gravity. All the fires in the stars will die out, and the universe will lie a cold, abandoned wasteland. In the end, chaos consumes us all.”
“You’re in a cheerful mood, aren’t you?”
A bright star above us flickered like a Christmas tree light. I pointed to it. “Do you see that? It’s about to die. We’re witnessing the death of a star.”
“You’re witnessing the death of a star two thousand years ago,” he pointed out. “It died when I was still young. You’re seeing its echo. And there are stars born out there that we can’t yet see. Their creation is like us—a balance of forces, fusion and gravity.”
He turned on his side, and his hand found its way to my waist.
“First you romanticize nature, now it’s all death. If you can find a balance, maybe you can control your powers better. Nature isn’t life or death. It’s both. Accept your feral side. Accept your monstrous side. Neither of us are perfect. We are distinctly imperfect. You and I are both destructive, but that’s not all we are. That’s not the limit.”
He traced his fingertips over my waist, and my blood heated.
Chapter 27
“When I first saw you in the streets of London,” said Adonis, “I saw your savage side. You were covered in blood, disguised as a demon. But there was life there, too—a spark of the divine in your eyes. You enthralled me. You woke something in my mind that I’d tried to keep dormant. You were dangerous to me. And even so, I took such a pleasure in killing the redcaps who wanted to hurt you. I will always take pleasure in killing anyone who wants to hurt you.”
I quirked a smile. “Same. I’d quite happily eat Aereus’s face off.”
Adonis’s eyebrows shot up. “I’d do it a bit more elegantly than you would, of course. And yet, even with your feral nature, you have an elegant side, too. When you danced for me, I couldn’t take my eyes off the beauty of your body and the way it moved, the divine inspiration beneath every twirl. The way the fabric moved over your delicate skin, the light shining from behind the darkness in your eyes.” He brushed his fingertips over my body, over my chest. “The flush of your chest. I knew there was a mystery there, one I needed to explore. You made me feel alive again, and vulnerable again. And then you pulled me back from the underworld. You had the power and the courage to raise Death from the dead. If anyone can take on Metatron, it’s you.”
“So you don’t think we’re bad for each other anymore? That we make each other too vulnerable?”
“When I smelled your blood all over the stones in Paris, I hadn’t felt that sort of terror since my mother died. It swallowed me whole. I felt my heart breaking. The beauty that had awoken me again, that had revived me—it was just gone. So, yes, love is a vulnerability, but it’s also my reason for living. And, yes, everything will end someday. In the end, even the immortals will be ripped apart by chaos. But we’re here now—sparks of light in the darkness.” He pointed at the stars. “And while we’re here, still alive, there is divine order all around us.”
I stared up at the Milky Way, thinking of its perfect whorls. It was a sort of divine order out there, wasn’t it? And maybe it was an answer to the chaos. Like Adonis had said, maybe perfection could be found in the balance of opposites: life and death, chaos and order.
I remembered reading something in a magazine long ago about Fibonacci numbers—a series in which each number was the sum of the two numbers that came before it. One, one, two, three, five, eight, and so on. And when you divided them together, you got the golden ratio. Nature had a habit of using the golden ratio to create beautiful, elegant patterns of a predictable order. The swoops of seashells, the curves of floral patterns—natural beauty mimicked by painters.
I turned to my side, plucking a buttercup from the ground. There it was again, the spiraling, winding perfection of the petals.
Metatron created chaos wherever he went. But there was order within the swirling patterns of the stars. This math was the voice of the gods—celestial and earthly gods alike. If you knew where to look, you could find divinity in nature.
I twirled the buttercup in front of my eyes. I had power over plants, didn’t I? Maybe nature could combat the chaos after all.
An idea began germinating my mind. “I want to try something.”
“Oh?”
“I want to see exactly what I can do with plants. Buttercups, wild grasses, vines.”
“I love you, Ruby, but I’m not sure we’re going to defeat Metatron’s immortal army with plants.”
I frowned. “A minute ago, you were expressing complete confidence in me. What happened to that?”
“Well, you started talking about buttercups.”
I sat up straight. “Maybe they’re the answer to the chaos. There is order here. Have you heard of the Fibonacci sequence? Every number is the sum of the two numbers that came before it, and that gives us the golden ratio. It’s in the distance between the whorls of stars in the Milky Way, or the spirals in a seashell. You can see it in the patterns of plants. Think about the number of petals that show up on a flower—it’s usually one of those numbers. Whoever created the material world that we see around us used this pattern, over and over again. I think this is our answer.”
He ran his fingertips up my arm, from my elbow up to my wrist, leaving trails of hot tingles in his wake. “And how do you plan to use these patterns?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know yet. But I know I can control plants. I did it in your garden in Scotland, and when I killed Johnny.” I took the buttercup and slowly stroked it down his perfect cheekbone.
It seemed to ignite something in him, and the next thing I knew, lust shone in his eyes. He hissed a breath, giving me a look that said “I’m about to jump your bones.”
Maybe practicing magic could be fun instead of just painful. In fact, I had the strongest urge now to watch my plants climbing all over his perfect body.
I waved my fingertips over the buttercups, and my skin tingled and sizzled with ancient magic. One of the buttercup stems began lengthening and snaking over Adonis’s torso. Heat blazed in his eyes, and he ran a hand over his mouth, as if he was still restraining himself, still keeping himself leashed.
Part of me wanted to see if I could get him to fully let go. Maybe in order to coax him to unleash himself, I had to confine him myself. I’d be his restraints, until he fought against them with all his power.
I hooked my leg over his waist and climbed on top of him, my dress riding up nearly to my hips. From where he lay, he had a view of my lacy panties. Then, I unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, feeling the sensuous thrill of his magic caressing my body.
I tried to focus on my magic, even with the heat sizzling over my skin and his body between my thighs. “Watch this.” I flicked my fingertips again, and buttercup stems surged from the ground, wrapping themselves around his wrists. I clenched my thighs around his abs, his skin warm against mine.
He let out a low snarl. “Are we done talking about buttercups?”
“No, we’re just getting started. I’m going to teach you to listen to me when I talk about plants. I need to practice.”
A wry smile curled his lips. “You do realize I have enough physical strength to break through buttercup stems. “
I clenched my thighs tighter, then ran my hands up his chest to his throat. “Don’t disobey me. I killed a man with these thighs. Don’t think I won’t squeeze you to death.”
“If I may put in a request for my method of execution,” he said, his velvety voice stroking my body, “I’d like to die in the same way.”
I cocked my head. “Noted. If I ever have to put you down, you can die between my thighs. And if you don’t drop the cocky attitude, that might be sooner than you’d like.”
“What attitude?”
“You’re magic-shaming me. You have no faith in my plants. You’re a plantist,
in fact.”
“When it comes to killing angels, I just don’t think flowers are likely to be as effective as the magic that can literally hurl angels off the earth. Maybe that’s a personal quirk of mine.”
Sure. As long as you’re fine with your girlfriend dying.
I narrowed my eyes. “You think you can break free from the buttercup stems? Try it.”
Adonis’s cocky smile still curled his lips—until he tried tugging on the stems. Then, the amusement left his features pretty fast.
Still straddling him, I straightened. “Like I said, you need to listen to me when I talk about plants.”
“You can talk all you want. But I need your dress off. Now.” His commanding voice dripped with the promise of sex.
“Pretty assertive there for a guy trapped to the ground by buttercups.”
“But you know as soon as I get out of this botanical prison, you’ll be at my mercy, and I will touch you until you beg me to fuck you.”
Already at his words, heat pulsed between my legs. I wanted to feel his masterful fingers at the apex of my thighs, but I also wanted to draw this out.
I flicked my fingertips again, and more strands of buttercups slid over his skin, trapping him to the earth.
I leaned down, stroking his face. “An angel, trapped in dirt like a beast.” I nipped at his lower lip, my nipples hardening. “How delightful.”
His body tensed beneath me. “As long as you keep your legs wrapped around me, I’m happy to be here.”
My body reacted powerfully to him, core throbbing. I kissed him more deeply, and his tongue stroked against mine. I rocked my hips on top of him, and I felt as if my body was swelling with heat. The fabric of my dress felt too hot now, and my brain was screaming at me to pull it off. I complied, and the cold night air whispered over my skin. I leaned down again, my nipples grazing his chest, and I kissed him deeply. I rocked my hips against him, moaning.
“Ruby,” he breathed, his voice husky. “I need you now.” He yanked his wrists against the plant manacles.
I whispered in his ear, “First, I want to hear you say my plant powers are worth exploring.”
His hips moved underneath me. “Is this really necessary?”
I brushed my fingertips over his waistband “Say it.”
“They’re worth exploring.”
I leaned in, my body pressed against his, and I started kissing his neck. My tongue flicked over his skin, and I moved my body into his.
He groaned.
“Not good enough,” I said. “Tell me you were wrong when you said my buttercups wouldn’t do it. My magic is powerful. I should be worshipped…. You know. The kind of stuff Metatron would want to hear.”
“Can we not talk about my father right now?”
“Say it.”
“I was wrong. You are a goddess of plants and all other things, and I bow before you and worship you in all your magical glory. And, in particular, right now I’d like to worship your perfect curves and your mouth and your breasts and every other part of your body.”
Sounded good to me. “Fine.” I raised my hands, beckoning the plants toward me. They whipped off his body, freeing him.
Just as I’d anticipated, it had taken my restraining him to entice him to truly unleash himself. He snarled, and in one swift movement, he had me on my back in the grass. Already, he was tugging down my panties, desperate for me. I tore his pants off him, and he lunged for me—more beast than I was at that moment.
He kissed me deeply, and with every thrust of his tongue, my legs fell open a little wider, my back arching. We kissed with abandon, his tongue stroking mine. We were frantic for each other, desperate. From underneath, I rocked my hips against him. He slid into me, and I moved in tune with him until my mind fractured with pleasure.
Chapter 28
Alex and I stood at the edge of a crowd of humans, watching as Rosalind transformed them. Tendrils of her brightly colored magic snaked into the crowd, curling over the humans. Over the course of the past few hours, Rosalind had honed her ability to transform people. Now, she could reach several of them at a time. I stared as her magic curled around a human male, transforming his emaciated and stooped form into a powerful, silver-horned demon.
I glanced up at the shield, hearing the faint thuds of arrows raining against it. Pieces of the shield chipped and flaked off, and my body tensed.
With each direct hit, the cracks in the shield deepened further. At every faint thud, my heart lurched. Each point of contact meant we were one heartbeat closer to death.
My chest felt tight. “Whatever happens, things are about to change,” I said to Alex.
“Good.” Alex looked up at the shield arching above us. “How much time do you think we have till the Host come through that?”
“I honestly don’t know. We’re going to try to strengthen it, and I think I might have an idea of how to do that. But all of this magic is new to me.”
“I don’t know if we’ll survive this,” said Alex, “but I know I can’t live like a hunted, starving animal anymore. I think death is better than the life I’ve had in the past year. Whatever happens next, I’m not going back to the rookeries.”
I studied Alex for a moment. “What happened to you since I last saw you? Where are Lucy and Katie?”
“What happened to us? More of the same. More starvation, more watching people die. More disease around me. We live, we die. The horsemen toy with us, just like Famine did when he put me on that scaffold. And scaffold or not, all of us humans are just inches away from death in this world. Lucy and Katie are fine, though. They’re living in an abandoned mansion right now.”
“The last time I saw you—I mean before the resistance started—I was pointing an arrow at you. What was that like? Being abducted, nearly dying, then set free again?”
Alex folded his arms, moonlight washing over him. “I had no idea what the hell was going on when Johnny kidnapped us. We were just cooking our rats over a fire on our rooftop. I didn’t even see him coming, just felt this insane hunger ripping me apart.” He dropped my gaze, looking over my shoulder. “The hunger nearly drove me mad. I just kept thinking about how I could eat Katie, that she had some meat….” He blinked. “You know what? Never mind. Let’s not finish that thought. Anyway, we all blacked out from extreme hunger, and next thing I know, I’m on a scaffold and you’re pointing an arrow at me.”
“You must have been terrified.”
He scrunched his forehead. “Not really. I had no idea what was going on or why you were standing next to Famine, but I knew you’d never even consider shooting me.”
Right. Probably best that I leave out the part about how I had, in fact, considered shooting him. “Of course, it never even crossed my mind. And the good news is, Johnny’s dead now. I made his head explode. Then what happened to you once Adonis took you away from here?”
“The death angel led us out of the city to an abandoned mansion in Northamptonshire. But I couldn’t stay there with just the three of us. We were safe, but in total isolation. They were driving me mad, until I felt like I had nothing to live for anymore anyway. I came back to London, found the resistance, and joined up.”
Something tingled over my skin, and it took me a moment to realize it was Rosalind’s overwhelming magic, vibrating through the air.
I stared as her colored magic whirled off her body. Within the crowd, she was transforming a middle-aged woman. Before my eyes, the woman’s graying, frizzled hair transformed into sleek brown curls, her body growing taller. Shimmering, silver wings grew from her shoulder blades. This frail human woman was turning into a valkyrie, a being that could ride the storm winds and rain death from above.
“Have you chosen what you’re going to transform into?” I asked Alex.
“Incubus.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Incubus. Really.”
“They’re gods of sex. Why would I choose anything else? I haven’t gotten any action since the Great Nightmare began, but….” He p
eered into the crowd. “With some of those cute valkyrie ladies wandering around, I’m liking my chances as an incubus.”
I nudged him with my elbow. “I have no doubt that you’ll be knee-deep in a bit of the ol’ how’s-your-father soon,” I said, trying out the British expression.
Alex grimaced.
“Yeah, that’s creepy. Forget I said that.”
“I’ll pretend it never happened.” Another arrow slammed into the shield, showering us with glimmering shield particles, and he frowned. “Do you honestly think we’re going to get our army together in time?”
I closed my eyes, thinking of the buttercups and the Milky Way. “I might have a plan. And I think we need to institute it now.”
At the northern edge of the domed shield, I stood by Adonis’s side. To our right, Rosalind and Caine were frowning at their work, running fingertips over the cracks.
Apparently, it was news to both of them that they were fallible.
“This doesn’t look good,” Rosalind grumbled.
“Whatever happens,” said Adonis, “we can’t fight them here. An open battle against the Host would be suicide. They outnumber us, and their skill level outmatches our forces. They’re all trained soldiers. But the Heavenly Host is used to a particular way of fighting. They march in formation. They’ve always done so. It’s their vulnerability.”
I nodded. “Our best chance at fighting them is guerrilla-style. We’ll need to hide around the City of London, taking cover in some of the ruined buildings and towers. From our hidden vantage points, we can take shots at them with poison-tipped bullets and arrows. Metatron’s chaos will be able to eat our weapons, destroy the buildings, everything around us. Even our soldiers, if we let them get close enough. I’m going to try to combat that as best I can. But we’ll all have to do our best to stay hidden, so he doesn’t know where to strike.”
Rogue Fae (A Spy Among the Fallen Book 3) Page 16
