I went to conjure up more flames, ready to burn my father off me, but he punched me in the head, rattling my brain, stopping me from concentrating on the fire. He grabbed my rosary and yanked it off me. Desperate to get it back, I lashed out at him, the rosary my only means of helping Catherine, but my punches only enraged him more. He struck me again and again, raining blow after blow down on me. I defended my head and kicked out at him, knocking him off me. I quickly scrambled to my feet, falling over as he grabbed one of my ankles. He climbed on top of me, pinning me down with his weight.
“Get off me!” I hollered.
“Stop being a fool, Chris! You can’t stop this. Your girlfriend’s practically dead anyway.”
“No!”
With all my might, I shoved him off me and got to my feet, just in time to see my grandfather lift a hand over Catherine, who was flat on her back. He was cradling a fireball in his palm, its flames a fiery mix of orange and red with wisps of black smoke. But he didn’t drop it on her, instead he watched as her body convulsed on the ground. Even from a distance I could see she was badly burned, so much so that her clothing had melted into her flesh, blackening her skin.
My grandfather’s gaze shifted to me. “She’s dying! You can’t stop it, it’s done.”
Before I could yell out a litany of curses at him, my father bashed into me yet again, taking me down a third time, the bastard never giving up. Overcome with grief, I kicked out at him, wanting to hurt him as much as my grandfather had hurt Catherine, to make him pay for everything both him and my grandfather had done, to make him suffer like they were making me and Catherine suffer. He fought back, trying to hurt me as much as I was hurting him, but the physical pain was nothing, the mental anguish everything.
My body lit up, flames encasing me, so much rage and grief fuelling it, my emotions burning out of control. My father scrambled away from me, his face shocked. A second later I realised why.
I wasn’t wearing my rosary.
The fire had ignited without them, the flames intrinsic, something rare. But I didn’t care how it had happened. All I cared about was destroying him, my father having pushed me too far. I lifted my flaming hands, ready to send him to Hell.
“No, Chris!” my grandfather yelled, running towards me. He threw out a barrage of smoke, dispersing the flames coming from my body. I instantly reignited and turned on him, making him stop in his tracks.
“This isn’t you, Chris,” he said, holding his hands out, worry clouding his brow. “You have to stop before it’s too late.”
Knowing it was already too late, I spread my arms out wide, ready to throw everything I had at him, my body a raging inferno, my soul having blackened like his. But a barrage of smoke hit me from behind, my father attempting to smother the flames. My grandfather joined him, the two of them working together, choking me with the thick smoke. I fell to my knees, gasping for air, the smoke stinging my eyes and clawing at my throat.
A soft patter of rain fell over me, dispersing the smoke, water for once giving me relief. Large storm clouds were forming above our heads, smothering the predawn sky. More rain fell, but it didn’t touch us, the water being directed elsewhere, towards—
Realisation hit me, my grandfather too. He spun around to face Catherine. Where she’d lain defenceless before, convulsing on the ground, she was now on her feet, with her arms raised to the sky. She was spinning a massive waterspout with her hands, the funnel-shaped vortex connecting her to the storm clouds above her head.
My grandfather yelled, “Antonio, get Chris out of here! Now!”
A fire shield instantly ignited around him, the heat so intense it shot out in all directions, a spark hitting one of my shoes. My father blew smoke on it, then grabbed my arms and started dragging me away from the heat. I let him, too weak from the smoke attack, my lungs still coughing it up.
I watched helplessly as my grandfather started advancing on Catherine, two massive fireballs igniting in his hands. Catherine lowered her head to look straight at him, her eyes completely blue, no pupils, only a sea of hate. Then out of nowhere, wings of water shot out of her back. Both me and my father gasped, what we were seeing only spoken of in myths and legends, but we didn’t have enough time to think about it, nor did my grandfather. Catherine flung the waterspout at him. He reacted quickly, throwing his fireballs at her, along with his fiery shield, doubling his attack. They pushed the spout back a few feet, then got sucked inside, the vortex swallowing them whole.
An eerie silence fell over the reserve, the waterspout now hovering between Catherine and my grandfather, its interior glow suggesting the fire was still alive. Both Catherine and my grandfather remained where they were, neither of them appearing to know what to do next. All that changed in a second as an explosion ignited within the spout. It hurled out water and smoke in all directions, a massive blast of heat rippling through the air. My grandfather and Catherine turned to run, but were picked up off the ground, flung back several feet. Catherine was slammed against a burning tree, her water wings exploding on impact, her body going limp like a ragdoll.
The blast continued outwards, heading towards me and my father. We both threw ourselves to the ground just as a huge rush of steaming hot air shot across our backs. It stung, but didn’t burn, eventually dissipating. I opened my eyes, blinking away the stinging mist. A few feet away from me, my father lay on the ground. I went to check if he was still breathing, but stopped as a groan escaped his mouth. He didn’t make a move to get up, just lay there, looking dazed. My rosary was hanging out of his jacket pocket, the purgatory bead glowing.
I grabbed the rosary and ran for Catherine, navigating through the warm mist that now covered the reserve. As I drew closer, I spotted her lying next to the burning tree she’d been thrown against. I stuffed my rosary into my back pocket and dragged her away from the tree, then dropped to the ground, pulling her into my arms. I didn’t need to feel her pulse to know she was dead. Her body was lifeless, her soul gone, blood and soot staining her white hair. She was also covered with severe burns, her skin blackened in areas, most of her clothes melded to her flesh.
Forcing my grief down, I removed the Halo rosary from my jeans pocket and slipped it over her head, peeling back the burnt remnants of her sweatshirt so the beads were touching her damaged skin. An intense blue light lit up her body, the Maris rosary changing the halo’s colour. But nothing else happened, the Halo beads not healing her.
I looked up at the sky, begging God to help her, yet my prayers went unheard. For a second, I considered calling out to the Devil, willing to barter my soul to save Catherine’s, but instead I screamed out my grief, knowing I’d lost the one good thing in my life.
Almost like an echo, my father screamed out too, his broken voice travelling across the field, telling me that my grandfather was also dead. I didn’t think I could feel anymore anguish, didn’t think I would grieve for the bastard either, but I did, the utter despair I felt crippling me. Despite what my grandfather had become, the hateful being he’d turned into, I still loved him.
Inconsolable, I closed my eyes and dropped my head to Catherine’s chest, rocking her back and forth, unable to hold back my pain. Another type of pain bit me in the brow, forcing me to lift my head, what had caused it grabbing my full attention. Thin streaks of blue and white light moved in and out of Catherine as though they were sewing up her flesh, her body healing before my eyes.
Holding my breath, I waited for her to open her eyes, almost afraid to blink, scared it was all in my head. I was rewarded several seconds later when her eyes popped open. She looked up at me, attempting to say something, but before she could get a word out, my mouth was on hers, kissing the hell out of her.
I eventually broke the kiss and picked her up, lifting her off the ground. I turned with her in my arms, stopping at the sight of my father bent over my grandfather’s body. As though he’d sensed me watching, he looked across the field at me, his features tormented. His eyes moved to Catherine, hurt and an
ger thrown her way. He knew what I’d done. Knew I’d chosen to save Catherine over my grandfather, the Halo rosary’s light already weakening. Within seconds, it would become dormant, no power left to revive my grandfather.
“He saved you from the demon!” my father yelled at me. “And you allow him to die?!”
I didn’t reply, knowing I had no defence, what I’d done unforgivable.
But instead of raging at me more, he lowered his head back down to my grandfather’s chest, sobbing over his dead father.
With a broken heart, I walked away, knowing that was it.
I no longer had a family.
Chapter 51
~ CATHERINE ~
Christopher carried me across the gravel road, not even struggling with my weight, even though I felt like lead, my body exhausted. I closed my eyes, needing sleep, needing it so bad.
Christopher said something, but I missed what it was, other than he sounded anxious. He gave me a shake and raised his voice. “Catherine, are you all right? Your breathing is laboured.”
A croak escaped my lips, my throat so dry. Trying again, I found my voice. “Just so tired.” I opened my eyes. “Where are you taking me?”
“Stephen’s house, where you should’ve gone last night.”
“Thank you,” I said simply, what he’d done for me more than I could vocalise.
He gave me a small smile, though it was tempered by his glistening, bloodshot eyes, grief infusing every part of him. It was almost like a separate aura, enveloping and weighing him down.
“What happened to your grandfather?” I asked, wondering whether that was why he was so upset. Was Reprebus dead? I’d heard a man yell something about allowing someone to die, but hadn’t been able to concentrate at the time. My mind had been groggy, still was groggy, everything a blur. Though, I did remember Reprebus getting thrown backwards just before I got slammed into a tree. But that was it. Nothing more. Everything going dead after that.
The last thought jolted me, making me realise that I had been dead. And I’d felt nothing. No spiriting away, no Heaven or Hell, no burning of my soul in Reprebus’ purgatory bead. Maybe I hadn’t been dead for long enough, giving Christopher a chance to save me. Regardless, it was scary, because there’d been absolutely nothing. No afterlife. Nothing.
Christopher didn’t reply to my question about his grandfather, just continued walking, holding me close to his chest. I placed my ear against it, hearing his elevated heart rate, his heart breaking inside.
A group of cyclists appeared in the distance, nothing but country surrounding us. I murmured the shielding spell, but was too weak for it to take effect. Christopher started saying it, the cyclists disappearing from sight, the smoke from the burning trees too far away to affect his spell.
He turned towards a barn, which was in one of the many paddocks framing the road. He walked past some tyre tracks that had ripped up the grass, and headed around the barn, the car he’d stolen from last night hidden behind it. He gently slid me into the backseat. I went to take off the Halo rosary on the remote chance that it could still save his grandfather. I didn’t want the man to survive, but this wasn’t about what I wanted, it was about Christopher. He’d saved me and I needed to do something for him.
“Don’t take it off,” he berated me softly. “You need to heal completely.”
“I am completely healed,” I replied, removing the beads. “I’m just weak from exhaustion, not injury. So, take the rosary to your grandfather.”
He blinked at me, surprise crossing his face. “But he tried to kill you. No, he did kill you. You were dead.”
“I don’t want you hurting.”
His brown eyes shimmered. “It’s too late.”
“There could still be a remote chance.”
He shook his head. “I used all the Halo beads’ energy on you. They’re practically dormant. They won’t work for months, possibly longer.”
I went silent, the fact he’d sacrificed his grandfather for me only just starting to sink in.
He closed my door and went around to the driver’s side, climbing behind the wheel. Not saying a word, he started the engine and headed out of the countryside, driving back to the burbs. I didn’t talk either, overwhelmed by what had happened.
We eventually arrived at Stephen’s place. It was a two-storey, Spanish-styled house with a terracotta roof and a smooth cream exterior, reminding me of my old primary school Star of the Sea.
Christopher hopped out of the car and went to my side. Using the blanket on the backseat, he wrapped it around me and pulled me out of the car. He carried me to Stephen’s front door, leaning over so I could press the doorbell. When no one answered, he started kicking the door.
“Stop banging!” Stephen yelled from within.
Running footsteps came from other side, the door opening a second later. Stephen stood before us, dressed in black pyjama pants and a white T-shirt, his long blond hair hanging loosely around his shoulders.
“What the hell are you doing here?” His sleepy gaze moved to me. “And...” He looked closer. “Holy shit, are you naked under that?”
“Her clothes are burnt,” Christopher replied. “Can we—”
Stephen cut him off, “Why are her clothes burnt?”
“She got attacked.”
Stephen’s face fell. “Shit, come in.” He moved aside.
Christopher stepped through the doorway. “Are zia or zio home?”
“No, they’re staying the night at a hotel for my mum’s birthday. Who attacked Cathy?”
“You won’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
“How about you tell me where I can lay her down first.”
“Put her in my parents’ room. You know where it is.”
Christopher carried me up the staircase, Stephen following close behind. We entered a bedroom that was covered with floral wallpaper and filled with intricate furniture that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Louvre.
“So, who attacked her?” Stephen asked.
Christopher laid me down on the king-sized bed, making sure the blanket still covered me. “Nonno Reb.”
Stephen blinked, then let out a burst of laughter. “This is a joke, right? You guys are getting one over me.”
Not answering him, Christopher dug into his pocket and pulled out a...
Terra rosary.
“Where did you get that from?” I asked, fascinated by it. Unlike the other legendary rosaries, it was quite colourful, with mostly purple and emerald jewels, as well as a few earthy ones.
Ignoring me, Christopher held the rosary out to Stephen. “Put this on.”
Stephen frowned. “Why?”
“Just put it on if you want me to explain.”
Stephen took the rosary and slipped it over his head, his eyes widening as it lit up. “What the hell?” he said, staring down at it.
“You’re a Merge, Stephen.”
Stephen looked back up, confusion playing across his dumb face. “What?”
“You’re a Merge. I don’t care if your parents don’t want you to know, you need to learn how to protect yourself from other Merges.”
“I have no idea what you’re on about.”
“A Merge is a type of angel.”
Stephen snorted out a laugh. “You’re definitely tripping.”
Christopher held out his hands, fire sparking from his fingertips. Stephen yelled out and stumbled back, his face shocked.
“I’m a Seraph,” Christopher said. “Which is one of the Seraphim—the fire angels. While Catherine’s a Stella, which is a pure angel. And you... You’re a Terra, which is an angel who can control earthly elements.”
Stephen’s shocked gaze moved from Christopher to me, then back to Christopher. “I’m dreaming, I’m not awake.” He rubbed at his face. “Or maybe it’s the pot that Greg got from that new guy Tate.”
“It’s not drugs or a dream,” Christopher replied. “I know this is a shock, but you need to understand this
is very real. Your parents are Deniers, which are Merges who don’t want to admit what they are. They think they’re protecting you by keeping you away from the Merge world, but you can’t live in ignorance. It’ll get you killed like it almost got Catherine killed.”
Stephen shook his head. “I don’t understand a word you’re saying, because this,” he indicated to Christopher’s flaming fingertips, “can’t be real.”
Fireballs formed in Christopher’s hands.
“Whoa!” Stephen yelled. “Stop doing that!”
“Not until you understand this isn’t a hallucination. It’s real.”
Stephen brought his hands to his head, gripping onto his blond hair. “You’re seriously freaking me out, man.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but you need to make your parents teach you how to use the rosary, because there are demons out there who want to kill us just because we’re angels.”
“Is that how Catherine got hurt? A demon attacked her?”
“Yes,” I answered, the dumbass probably having forgotten what Christopher had said about their grandfather, and... he proved me right.
“The demon didn’t infect you, did it?” he asked. “Because I ain’t having no Exorcist shit in my house.”
I rolled my eyes. “Demons don’t infect, they possess. They aren’t bloody zombies, you moron.”
His face went hard. “I’m not a moron!”
Christopher jumped in before I could reply, “She didn’t mean that.”
“Oh, yes I did.”
Christopher threw a glare at me. “Christ, he’s helping us, will you at least be nice?”
“Yeah, sure, I’m sorry.”
Christopher shook his head at me, probably knowing I wasn’t being sincere, then returned his attention to his cousin. “Can I live with you for a while? I can’t go back home, not after what happened.”
Stephen nodded. “Stay as long as you need, my mum wants you here anyway.”
Stella Maris (The Legendary Rosaries) Page 36
