The breath left my lungs. Blood poured from my shoulder wound. I tried tuning into the spirits of the plants around me, to make them germinate in the weapons. But Metatron was speaking again, blocking out my own thoughts with his voice, until only one word pounded in my mind.
Beast. Beast. Beast.
He was mocking me, confusing me. And as he did, the world seemed to be fragmenting, falling to pieces. Parts of buildings, pavement, steel, and glass danced and ruptured in the air around me. And then, another angelic phrase … worship me. It was an answer to the chaos, a beacon in the darkness. He had the answers I needed.
It felt like a command I couldn’t ignore. I fell to my knees in the rubble, my hands in the dust, the jagged cement scraping at my skin.
I looked up from the ground, awed to find Metatron. Radiant light beamed from his head.
He spoke to me in my mind.
Ruby. I’m going to tear your mind apart, and your sister will be next. And I want you to die knowing that the man you love will be eternally punished for his transgressions.
His words cleared my mind again. I needed to stop this. I needed to stop it all….
I needed the Old Gods, even if it killed me. Even if they ripped my body apart with the power of their light.
My world tilted. Time seemed to slow down again, and Metatron’s dark hair twisted and writhed in the wind. His mouth moved slowly, forming words he used as weapons.
A familiar scent hit me—myrrh. My gaze flicked to Adonis. He was crawling from the rubble, his dark wings coated in dust. His stormy gray eyes locked on me. His armor, his sword began to disintegrate before my eyes. And then, to my horror—even his wings began to fragment. Aereus swooped over him, moving in slow motion, his sword raised.
Unable to get up from my knees, I stared at Adonis, screaming his name. Aereus—the Horseman of War—raised his sword over Death’s head.
If I used the magic of the Old Gods, I’d die.
But I didn’t have a choice anymore.
As I met Adonis’s gaze, light blazed from my body. I gave in to it, relinquishing control. The power of the Old Gods ripped me open, streaming from my ribs, my bones. I felt my lungs and organs expand, and agony fractured my mind.
Even as I fragmented, I could see the world slowly come together again—divine order and light slowly piecing together feathers, metal, stone—one particle at a time. But the magic was overpowering—a stolen force I couldn’t control. My back arched, and ancient forces pulled me further apart.
When I looked up at Metatron, in his golden eyes, I saw something new. Something strangely human: fear.
With the last bit of strength in me, I pushed myself to my feet.
I was going to die, but Metatron was coming with me. I grasped his body in an embrace.
And I let the magic of the Old Gods erupt.
Chapter 33
As the pain left my body, everything around me seemed to crumble into atoms. I watched the world dissolve around me, until darkness replaced it.
I couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t place myself in space. I had no idea if I’d been here for a few seconds or for an eternity. Time didn’t quite make sense anymore.
Until—a burst of light in the darkness.
I could hear my own breathing, my own heartbeat. I was here at the beginning and the end of it all. In the time before words and after them.
Nothing would last forever, and in the end, chaos would eat us all. But Adonis and I—we’d been sparks of light in the darkness.
I felt him here, in fact. I felt his soothing presence, his calming effect on my mind. Death, my lover, was with me, here, and he wanted to bring me back. I reached for him, trying to stroke him, embrace him, but I couldn’t find him in the darkness. That light was too far from me. I wanted to feel his smooth skin under my fingertips, and they stroked helplessly through the air. Nothing.
Loneliness ate through me, and a rising sense of panic. I couldn’t stay here forever on my own, separated from the people I loved.
Then, the distant chink of light expanded, swirling with green in the darkness, until light and matter began to bloom and piece together around me. A solid ground of soil formed beneath my feet.
From the void, a garden formed, until leaves from plants brushed my calves. I took a step, my feet sinking into the soil.
I blinked, my eyes dazzled by the azure sky. Okay, so this was death, and I was in Paradise. Not the worst outcome, I supposed.
Had the Old Gods just taken me here? Maybe they didn’t hate me after all, because it seemed fairly heavenly here. In fact, the scent of the garden intoxicated me. Was this Eden?
Yes.
I caught a glimpse of Azazeyl slipping through the trees. This was where it had all begun, where minds had gone to war with bodies, creation with instinct, where the Old Gods had begun to fight the new.
I spotted a tree in the corner of my eye, its trunk wrapped in grapevines. I needed to know how the fruit tasted.
I hurried to it, then plucked one of the grapes from the tree. I popped it in my mouth. I bit down on it, and the sweet juice washed over my tongue. I swallowed, and golden, powerful magic spilled through my veins and filled my skull. As it did, I felt my body start to move again. As if by its own volition, my body twirled through the garden, my bare feet skimming across leaves and moss.
Long ago, when I’d danced, my mind had been silent. Peaceful.
Now, as I moved through the garden, perfect silence washed over me. I twirled, extending my arms as I moved. I pointed my toes, lifting my leg into the air. With every graceful arc of my arms, light beamed from my body. It was just like Caine had said. I was an angel and a beast, in a garden of life and death.
As I moved, words began to form in my mind. Angelic words. But now, they seemed like they belonged in my thoughts—like a skill I’d once had and lost, a sense that had once been native to me.
I couldn’t run from the past, from the memories I wanted to forget. I couldn’t ignore the blood staining my memories, my teeth piercing flesh. My feral side. It was a part of me.
But I could change the way the story was told. I could give it new meaning. Love and rage were primal, animal forces, but we could shape them with our stories.
I caught a glimpse of a perfect form moving through the trees.
Azazeyl?
I moved toward him, his powerful magic drawing me closer. Gray eyes, midnight wings—it wasn’t Azazeyl. It was Adonis, his night-kissed magic spooling from his body. I ran to him, and he wrapped his arms around me. I pressed my head to his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
Perfect spirals of magic whirled from him like the Milky Way.
Death, my lover, ruled this domain. But he wanted me back among the living. The smell of myrrh swept over me, raising goosebumps on my skin. I pulled his face to mine, kissing him.
With the kiss, life streamed back into my body, lighting me up.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in Adonis’s arms.
Back in London, in a cloud of dust. Life suffused my body. He’d healed me completely, and I felt amazing. I stared at the gorgeous planes of his face, wanting to pull him in for another kiss. The sweet music of Paradise still played in my ears.
“You brought me back. Is it over? The battle?” I asked, warmth lighting up my body.
“No.”
Well, fuck. That killed the mood. I’d just died, and my death hadn’t even finished the job.
All at once, the roaring of battle noises returned to me. The clashing of swords, the agonized screams of people losing limbs. The brutal pounding of my own heart.
“Metatron is gone,” said Adonis. “Banished to the Celestial realm by the Old Gods’ power. That was your doing, when you grabbed him. But the rest of their army remains. Along with Aereus.”
My heart hammered, and I pulled myself free from Adonis’s embrace and rose to my feet.
Above us, winged demons were fighting the angels. I caught a brief glimpse of Caine
, a blur of silver and black, rushing for an angel, his sword raised in the air.
Ruby. Kratos’s voice boomed in my mind once more. Can you kill Aereus?
“Working on it!” I shouted.
My gemstones began simmering and tingling. I glanced overhead, where Aereus was locked in a battle with Kratos. They weren’t far above us. In fact, I could probably drag War down from here. That fucker had nailed my boyfriend to a wooden plank, and I was still pissed about it.
Already, I could feel the Devil’s Bane building in me, curling from my fingertips.
I flung out my wrists, and ropes of the plant spooled out of my body, wrapping around the Horseman of War.
I tugged on the vines, yanking him down to earth. He slammed hard on the rubble, and dust puffed in an enormous cloud around him.
He started to stand, roaring with rage. His very presence ignited wrath in my body. I wanted him to suffer. Strength rippled through me, and I grabbed him by the throat. I squeezed his neck, reveling in the pain etched across his features.
“I have a message. You don’t belong here. You never did. Not because you’re a horseman. Because you’re an evil, stupid fuck who created hell on earth, and you don’t even know why.”
He screamed, and I lifted my free hand to his face. Devil’s Bane spiraled out of my fingernails, surging into his mouth and his eye sockets, his nostrils. My plants ripped through his bones and veins, crawling through his wretched heart and arteries. He gurgled, his skin bulging and ripping apart.
“Your time on earth is over.” I flicked my wrist, and his body exploded into particles of flesh and bone.
I glanced at Adonis, whose gray eyes had gone wide. He gripped a sword, ready to cut into more angels, but the sight of me exploding another horseman seemed to have distracted him, and he was giving me that look again, somewhere between horror and admiration.
But he didn’t have long to stare, because already an angel was rushing up behind him, sword raised.
Adonis whirled, gracefully slashing his sword through the angel’s neck. Headless, the angel fell into the rubble.
When I looked closer at the soldier from the Heavenly Host, I could now see the magical spells writhing in the air around him. The words snaked and curved around every one of them. It was the immortality spell.
I stared as the magic vibrated around the decapitated angel’s neck, shimmering until his head appeared again.
Immortal.
Kratos’s voice rang in my mind again. Can you pull the immortality spell off the soldiers?
It was just that a silver-haired angel was swinging for me. I ducked, and his blade whooshed over my head.
“Working on it!” I shouted again.
I unleashed a stream of Devil’s Bane from my fingertips, and it surged into his body, ripping him apart from the inside out.
I glanced at Adonis, who was fighting through the angels around him.
I whirled, trying to keep the oncoming horde off of me. I was dimly aware of Kratos’s commands in my mind. He was trying to direct our demonic allies to keep me safe, but there were just so many angels. I shot out another blast of Devil’s Bane, and the magic curled around some of the soldiers around me.
Time to make them mortal again.
I arched my back, flinging out my arms. I was a black hole, pulling the golden magic toward me with an overpowering gravitational force.
The golden words spun through the air in perfect spirals that mirrored the Milky Way, ripping away from all of the angelic soldiers.
I pulled the immortality spells off one soldier after another—from the streets and the sky—and they spiraled into me.
As I made the enemy mortal once more, a blaze of fire seared the air above me.
Hazel, on her godsdamned dragon. She was picking off members of the Heavenly Host who flew in the sky. Their mortal bodies burned, and ash rained down from the heavens.
The angelic magic of immortality streamed into my body—words upon words—until I’d ripped every last spell from them.
“Your turn, Death.” I glanced at Adonis, who was already rising into the air.
His back curved, as if in ecstasy. A chink of light broke through the clouds, and golden rays washed over him while his wings carried him into the air. He cast an enormous, dark shadow over the city.
Dark magic spiraled off of him in perfect arcs, like the curves of a seashell, and there was something beautiful and terrifying about it at the same time. The magical tendrils slipped over the Heavenly Host, curling around each victim. As soon as it touched them, each of them seized up, their eyes bulging.
Here he was—the bringer of death. His black wings beat the air. I couldn’t help it—even if he was the man I loved, right now, he scared the crap out of me. I felt my knees going weak looking up at him. He looked like a god of death, and it was hard to reconcile this image with the Adonis who thought fondly of his garden. Still, it was like he said—we were both destructive monsters, but that wasn’t all we were. It wasn’t the limit.
I stared at one of the angels who’d been coming for me—a black-haired woman with silver eyes. As Adonis’s dark magic spun around her, her skin began to turn purple. She was putrefying before my eyes. Holes formed in her flesh, and the scent of rot rolled off her.
My lip curled. My lover had a very, very disturbing skillset.
I closed my eyes to the horrifying sight before me. When I opened them again, piles of the angelic dead littered the streets.
Among the dead, the demonic forces began moving. I scanned the survivors, relieved every time my gaze landed on someone I cared about.
For just a moment, perfect silence reigned.
Chapter 34
I sank deeper into Kratos’s bath—regrettably, without Adonis to keep me company this time.
I’d washed off the ash and blood of battle, although it couldn’t, unfortunately, wash the image of the putrefying angels out of my mind. Their bodies now littered the streets. Perfect fertilization for the gardens and fields we needed to plant. We’d be rebuilding this world, one vegetable patch at a time. Already, the members of the former resistance were clearing London’s streets of angel bodies. They had begun hauling them out to open fields and razing abandoned buildings to create more farmland.
The resistance had begun and ended in London, and now the entire world could rebuild. It would be a while before we got things back to normal again. Transportation between countries was limited, and we had to rely on growing our own food. Luckily, I could help in that regard.
I toweled off my body, marveling at the pale, golden glow emanating from my legs. The glow of immortality. Truthfully, I felt amazing.
When I straightened again, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Kratos was standing there in the doorway, his copper eyes locked on me.
“Gods below, Kratos. You need to stop watching me while I bathe.”
“Why? I appreciate your beauty.”
“It’s creepy.”
“Is it?”
It had taken me this long to understand that some of Kratos’s creepiness was just an inability to understand normal social conventions. “What are you doing here?”
He straightened. “I wanted to thank you for ridding me of my curse.”
I pulled the towel tightly around me. “Thank you for leading our army to victory.”
“It’s what I was born to do.”
I smiled. “It’s part of what you were born to do. But it’s not the limit. You’re free now, and you can do what you want.” I studied him, his rigid posture of a commander. “What are you going to do next?”
I couldn’t stop wondering if Kratos had finally gotten laid, but I wasn’t going to come out and ask it.
“I’m going to get busy,” he said.
“Interesting turn of phrase.”
“…with rebuilding the world that I helped to destroy. I’ve learned that I don’t like living in isolation. Humans and demons in London may not accept me, since they remember me as the Hunt
er. I was tempted to terrify them into submission so that they would accept and love me.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s not really how love works.”
“But your human friend Alex suggested I can earn people’s trust again by helping to recreate what was lost. After all, conquest isn’t just about war. It’s about taking over a new place and making it your own. It’s about construction as much as it is about destruction.”
I nodded. “The ruins of the world could definitely use your help.”
His gaze slid over my bare shoulders. “I’d also like to fuck someone.” His jaw tightened. “Obviously not you. I mean, I would like to have sex with you, but—”
“Maybe just stop talking.”
“Right.” He nodded curtly. “Good talk.”
“I’ll get dressed on my own.”
Before leaving, he turned to me one last time. “Do you think you could pull the curse off Muriel? If she were into that kind of thing?”
I loosed a sigh. There was no way around it. I was involved in Kratos’s love life.
“I will ask her what she thinks.” Even though she sucks.
Without another word, Kratos turned and left me alone.
Now, I had some rebuilding of my own I wanted to do. I had spent so long thinking about my phantom life—the perfect vision of a cottage, a garden, a sylvan paradise. Now, I had the chance to try to make it real.
Chapter 35
I hammered another nail into the side of the oak plank. I’d wanted this cottage, dammit, and I was making it myself.
I’d promised the resistance we’d rebuild, and that was exactly what we were doing now. I was making my phantom life real.
It was a little different from my fantasy—not quite the forest. In fact, fields and gardens stretched out around me.
I stepped back from my creation, a smile curling my lips. Adonis had offered to make a cottage with magic—a perfect one, carved with the words of the gods. But I’d wanted to make something with my hands. I’d wanted to feel the wood beneath my fingertips. I didn’t want it to be perfect. I wanted the crooked lines and unevenness of the nails. And I wanted it to be a surprise for him, compelled by some primal instinct to make a home for my family.
Rogue Fae (A Spy Among the Fallen Book 3) Page 19
