Black Heart bw-3

by Christina Henry

  I was warm and I was safe, and so was my child. I had no fear.

  When I woke it was night, and I was no longer on the beach. Daharan cradled me in a kind of sling that hung from his front claws. The ocean rolled away beneath us, and the wind blew in my hair. It should have been uncomfortable, but the heat emanating from Daharan’s body kept me warm, and I wasn’t worried that he would drop me. I drifted off again.

  The next time I opened my eyes the sun was blazing, and the ocean was gone. Below us were the spiky peaks of mountains. I felt wide-awake and refreshed for the first time in days. I felt like I could take on anything—the Retrievers, the Agency, Evangeline, even Alerian. Well, maybe not Alerian. But I felt a lot better than I had for a while.

  I reached up and put my hand on Daharan’s claw so that he would know I was awake. He snorted in response, and kept flying. We were close to the portal now. I wondered how long I’d been asleep, and how long we’d been flying.

  It is a much different experience to be carried by a flying dragon than to fly yourself. The dragon moves a lot faster, for one. I’d never been in an airplane—I’d never had any need to be in one—but I imagine that dragon flight is not unlike jet flight. The ground was much farther away than it would have been if I had been flying myself, and it seemed like we were passing slowly over it, though I knew we were covering dozens of miles every minute.

  I relaxed in the sling that Daharan had made for me, and made a concerted effort not to worry about what consequences might be in store for me if I passed through the land of the dead again. There honestly wasn’t much worse that the Agency could do to me that they hadn’t already done, but my actions would probably inflame Sokolov and his gang further.

  On the other hand, I couldn’t control what the Agency decided to do. Or Lucifer and Evangeline. Or Alerian or Daharan or Puck. I could only respond to what they chose to do.

  I realized that had become a way of life for me. At some point I had ceased taking the initiative. I’d become a person who responded to what happened instead of making things happen. But could I do any different? I wasn’t going to sit back and let my family members run roughshod over innocent people.

  Daharan pointed his nose down, releasing flame as he descended. The mountains had morphed into smaller foothills, and the portal was near us. We dropped slowly, but I was still forced to crack my jaw to make my ears pop.

  Daharan landed softly in the grass in front of the portal. Most portals exerted a strong, vacuumlike pull on their immediate vicinity. Some of them created temporary cyclones so strong that they sucked in small objects from several feet away. This portal wasn’t like that. It hung in space like a mirror, quiet and still. It blended in to the landscape in such a way that you would not know it was there if you weren’t looking for it.

  Unlike most of the other portals I’d seen, the world on the other side was not obscured by mist. I could see the scorched earth of the land of the dead, the place that I’d taken Evangeline from.

  Daharan transformed into construction-worker-guy next to me. I turned to him.

  “Thanks,” I said simply. “Thanks for feeding me, and bringing me here. If you hadn’t, I probably would have had to ask for Puck’s help, and he would have demanded another favor in return.”

  “Madeline,” Daharan said. His face was very serious. That seemed to be his default emotion. I bet there wasn’t a lot of levity when Daharan was around. “Be wary of any deals you make with Puck. He is as changeable as the air.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said. “But sometimes I don’t have a choice.”

  “There is always a choice,” Daharan said.

  “Not always,” I said, thinking of the first time I’d indebted myself to Puck. He’d given me a jewel to escape Titania and Oberon’s court, and hadn’t bothered to mention that I would owe him a boon in return. Apparently you didn’t have to actually verbally agree to anything in order to make a contract with Puck.

  Daharan gave me a brooding look. I sensed that there was something else he wanted to say to me, that there was something Puck had done that upset him. But he just gave a small sigh and said, “Shall we go?”

  I looked at him in surprise. “Wait—you’re going to go with me?”

  “Of course,” Daharan said. “I would not be able to leave this world otherwise. And I will not leave you to the tender mercies of the Retrievers as my brother would.”

  I blinked away the tears that sprang up. “Thank you,” I said.

  “He should do this himself,” Daharan said, and the flames in his eyes blazed higher for a moment.

  “We both know that Lucifer only does what Lucifer wants to do,” I said.

  “He has always been like that,” Daharan muttered. “From the cradle.”

  I had a very strange vision of the four brothers as children. It looked a lot like a chibi-anime cartoon in my head, all soft edges and big eyes. Alerian was a tiny cute squid in a baby pool. Puck a troublesome toddler with chocolate on his face and a stash of cookies behind the couch. Daharan was a teensy dragon blowing puffs of smoke. And Lucifer rose up on little wings before falling to the ground, unable to stay aloft.

  I shook my head. My brain seemed to enjoy delivering me these non sequiturs from time to time. A thought occurred to me.

  “Who are your parents?” I said. I’d always assumed the four brothers had sprung fully formed from the dust of the universe or whatever. “If you were children, you had parents.”

  Daharan shook his head. “This is not for you to know.”

  “Why not?” I said. “They’re related to me, too.”

  “Our parents are very ancient beings, and they have slept for millennia,” Daharan said. “To speak of them would be to wake them, to draw their attention.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” I said. “Maybe Lucifer and Puck would calm down if Mommy and Daddy put them in a time-out.”

  “They would not put them in a ‘time-out,’” Daharan said. “When we were children, if Lucifer and Puck fought over a toy, my parents would simply break the toy.”

  “Oh,” I said, getting the picture. “So if they thought that Lucifer and Puck were fighting for, say, dominion over the Earth . . .”

  “They would wipe out the Earth and everything on it,” Daharan said.

  “Okay, let’s not wake up Great-Grandpa and -Grandma,” I said.

  Daharan gave me a very small, very brief smile. “Yes, let’s not.”

  In silent agreement we both turned toward the portal.

  “I will go first,” Daharan said.

  A cold, unreasoning fear gripped my heart. Gabriel had always wanted to go first, and that was why Azazel’s sword had killed him instead of me.

  “Do not worry,” Daharan said. “It would take a great deal to kill me.”

  “Of course,” I said, and watched Daharan step into the portal. A moment later, I followed.

  9

  THE PASSAGE THROUGH THE PORTAL WAS RELATIVELY placid. It felt like floating through water, and then I was out on the other side. Daharan caught me easily and placed me on my feet. I shaded my eyes from the burning sun and looked around.

  The land of the dead was just as crappy and desolate as it had been the last time I’d been here. The sun beat down on a bleached landscape that was broken only by the occasional rock or tree.

  “Do we have to walk?” I asked.

  Daharan shook his head. “No, we are not souls that are supposed to be here. We can pass through without penalty.”

  “Penalty from this world, maybe,” I said. “The Agency will probably have something else to say about that.”

  “The Agency has become too narrow-minded and rigid in its focus,” Daharan said as we took to the air. Like Puck, he didn’t have visible wings, but glided along as easily as Superman.

  We didn’t speak as we flew. Daharan didn’t seem like the type for casual chitchat, and I had a lot to contemplate. The existence of Lucifer’s parents had given rise to other questions, but I didn’t
think Daharan would give me the answers. Where had the angels come from? Had they been created by Lucifer? By his parents? What did Puck mean when he said that Lucifer was the firstborn of his kind? What about humans? Were we some kind of grand experiment, or just an accident of chemistry and biology?

  I guess these were the questions that most people had about their existence. But most people didn’t have access to the answers through their relation to some of the oldest creatures in the universe.

  When Evangeline and I had crossed the desert, it had taken us less than a day on foot to find the portal. Daharan and I were flying, so I’d assumed it would take less time. But after a couple of hours we still hadn’t come across the place where I’d helped Evangeline’s soul cross over.

  Everything in the desert sort of looked the same, so it was possible we were going in the wrong direction.

  “Hey, shouldn’t we have found the portal by now?” I said to Daharan. “The one I used with Evangeline wasn’t that far away.”

  Daharan shook his head. “That portal was only present by your will and Lucifer’s, a tool of the Hound of the Hunt. The real portal is much farther.”

  “Right, because nothing can ever be simple or straightforward,” I said.

  “Madeline,” Daharan said. “You need to stop thinking that the universe is tossing obstacles in your way for its own amusement. You are just a tiny thing in the grand scheme.”

  “Well, nothing like having your uncle put you in your place and remind you how insignificant you are,” I muttered.

  “You have a part to play,” he said calmly. “And it is an important one. But the gears of the galaxy are many, and they grind exceedingly small.”

  “Does that mean I can take a break from saving the world, then?” I said.

  “No, you may not,” Daharan said. “Unless you are willing to let the innocent die.”

  “You know that I’m not going to let that happen.”

  “Then this conversation is pointless,” Daharan said. He didn’t sound irritated, but there was a finality in the way he spoke that told me the subject was closed.

  I was annoyed and I didn’t really know why. I’d resisted taking on this role. I didn’t want to be a hero, but I felt it had been thrust upon me over and over. I’d repeatedly said I just wanted an ordinary life, but that life had been sacrificed at the altar of the greater good. And because of that I’d gotten a little arrogant, I guess. I’d thought that I was important, that the world couldn’t do without me.

  Now Daharan was telling me that I was just a little piece of a grand jigsaw. A very little piece. And that made me wonder whether all the sacrifice was worth it.

  It’s worth it if you save one life, I thought. Hadn’t I said that to Nathaniel once? He’d questioned why I struggled, why I threw myself in front of the bus over and over for people who would never know or care about me. And I’d told him that it was worth it if I saved one person. No one deserved to be mowed down in the street just because they had gotten in the way of something huge and horrible and incomprehensible.

  I sank into my own thoughts, brooding. I didn’t really pay attention to where we were going or how long it took. I just kept close to Daharan, who seemed to know what he was doing. So I was surprised when we suddenly started to descend.

  I was equally surprised when I saw that the landscape had changed significantly. The parched desert was gone, replaced by lush and rolling hills dotted with trees and flowers. But I didn’t sense the presence of the portal.

  “The portal isn’t here,” I said. “Why are we going down?”

  “Do you not need to rest?” Daharan asked, but he avoided my eyes as he said it.

  Daharan had been extremely straightforward in my dealings with him thus far. I had to wonder why he was keeping his gaze from mine. And if I should be worried that this was the double-cross I’d been half expecting ever since Daharan had agreed to help me.

  “What’s down there?” I demanded, stopping in the sky.

  Daharan paused, turned to face me. His eyes were sad, the fire in them banked. “Not what. Who.”

  There could be only one person he meant.

  “Is he here?” I said, my heart leaping with a joy that I hadn’t felt since the day I’d lost him.

  Daharan nodded. “You have a short time. I will return for you.”

  My whole being flooded with anticipation. I dropped to the ground as rapidly as I could, turning in a circle, looking for the one face that I’d been searching for ever since he’d been taken from me.

  And he was there, coming to his feet beneath a tree, his expression a mixture of astonishment and wonder.

  “Gabriel,” I breathed.

  I ran to him, ran like I’d never run before, tears blinding me. I leapt into his arms and kissed him like I would never kiss him again. Because I wouldn’t. I knew that this was the last time, the last chance. And Daharan had given it to me.

  “Madeline,” he said, over and over, his hands on my face, in my hair, like he couldn’t believe I was real.

  Inside my belly, my son fluttered his happiness. He knew his father was near.

  Gabriel sank to his knees, pushed my shirt up so my stomach was revealed. He put his hand there, and his head next to it, turning his ear to my skin.

  A pulse of magic passed through his fingers and shot through me, into the place where our son was cradled. Incredibly, the baby gave a tiny little pulse back, his magic meeting Gabriel’s.

  I looked at Gabriel in wonder and amazement, through eyes blurred by tears, and saw that he had the same expression on his face.

  “How can he be so strong already?” I whispered.

  “He is growing quickly,” Gabriel said. “You will show soon.”

  He stood then, and gave me an assessing look. “You are not eating enough. You look pale. And thin.”

  “Really?” I said, shaking my head at him. “We’re reunited after death, and you’re worried about how much I’m eating?”

  He gave me a brief smile, his dark eyes dancing. “I’m sure I can think of something else to do, if you only have the time.”

  “We have time for that,” I said, reaching for him, but he drew back. I stopped, confused. “What’s the problem?”

  “Madeline, I do adore you, but . . . perhaps a bath is in order first?”

  I looked down at my clothes, which were covered in dirt and sand and Cimice blood. My boots were coated in some unidentifiable goop. My hair felt greasy, and I probably smelled bad. But . . .

  “Okay, you have a point,” I said. “But it’s not exactly tactful to point it out.”

  “I would like to make love to my wife when she is not covered in bug organs,” Gabriel said, taking my hand and leading me to the sparkling lake.

  “You’re so romantic. How can I resist?” I said.

  The lake was so blue and perfect it didn’t seem real. The whole place seemed like a faerie illusion, something out of a dream. I put my sword on the ground and sat to pull off my boots. Even my socks were disgusting.

  “The problem is,” I said as I undressed, “that once I’m clean, I’m going to have to put these yucky things back on again.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “No, you will not. This place has a way of providing what is needed.”

  I paused, still in my bra and underpants. “Why is it so different here, compared to the way it is where Evangeline was? And why are you the only one around?”

  He looked thoughtful. “I think it is because we see what we expect to see.”

  “So if you think you’re going to sit on white fluffy clouds and all your loved ones are going to be there, that’s what will happen?” I asked.

  “I do not have all the answers,” Gabriel said. “I have never seen another soul in all my time spent here.”

  “Isn’t that lonely?” I asked.

  “Not right now,” he said, and his eyes were full of heat. “Madeline. Take the rest off.”

  I felt suddenly shy with him looking at me lik
e that. He was still clothed, and I was just about bare-assed naked with the sun shining down on me. But there was also longing, and need, and so my underthings fell to the ground. I stood before him, and he just looked. Heat spread over me, soft and languid.

  “Gabriel,” I said, and it came out breathless.

  He reached for me, took my hand, and led me to the lake. The water was warm as it lapped against my bare feet. I stepped in up to my ankles, and turned to him.

  “You’re still wearing your clothes,” I said.

  “I know,” he said, his hands going to the top button of his shirt. Even here, in the afterlife, he dressed like a young professional in a button-down and slacks. “Let me wash your hair.”

  Just like that, there was shampoo and soap and soft towels on the bank of the lake. I waded in deeper, folding my wings against my back, ducking under the water, letting it run over my body. My shyness was diminishing rapidly. I felt so free and easy, naked in the water, with no one near to stumble upon us.

  I kicked back to the surface and found Gabriel standing in the water up to his waist.

  “Come here,” he said, and there was nothing else I could have done. I was drawn to him, the way I had been from the first moment I saw him.

  I walked to him, aware of what was revealed as the water became shallower.

  “Turn around,” he said, and I had the satisfaction of hearing the need in his voice.

  I turned, conscious of my body and my power over him in a way I had never been before. He trailed one finger down the curve of my spine, stopping just before he went anyplace interesting. I shivered, and he gave a low chuckle.

  Then his hands were in my hair, massaging through something that smelled sweet and herbal. He rinsed my hair clean, and then started on the rest of me. He took his time, and also took the time to touch and to kiss when he wanted, turning me in the water, building anticipation until I thought I would explode.

  Then he lifted me to him, meteors shooting across the dark expanse of his eyes.

  “I love you,” he said, and then he was inside me, taking my breath away.

  His magic flowed through me, and mine through him. I could feel Gabriel in my blood and in my bones, in the very beat of my heart. I was a part of him, and he was a part of me, and it would be this way forever.