Moments later, Adrian returned. Then I bit my lips to keep from screaming as he spread manna over the large, burned rents in my left arm. To my credit, I managed to stay silent through his treatment of that one, but when he started on my right arm, the damage must have been worse or I was all out of willpower. Either way, a shriek escaped me that I couldn’t stuff back.
“You could heal her instantly,” Adrian growled, and I opened my eyes. His shadows had all but disappeared earlier, but now that Zach had put his human suit back on, they were flickering down Adrian’s back like a living, growing cape.
Zach—I’d never learn to call him Michael—gave the shadows a look that, on anyone else, I’d translate as You think you’re threatening me? Bitch, please! “These few extra moments won’t matter in her overall healing.”
Easy for someone to say whose arm wasn’t currently resembling a hot dog left too long on the grill. But it was useless to point that out, not to mention ungrateful. Zach had saved both of us today by showing up. If I berated him about not doing more to save Adrian, he’d probably remind me that he hadn’t needed to. I’d had all the necessary power myself. Granted, if it had occurred to me to blast the clouds away sooner, we wouldn’t have needed Zach’s intervention at all, but better late than never as far as that inspiration went.
“Thank you,” I whispered, and I wasn’t only saying it to Adrian, who’d finished smearing manna on my arm. I was also saying it to Zach.
“You shouldn’t stop at thanking me,” Zach said, a gentle reprimand in his tone. “I was sent here, remember?”
I closed my eyes. My complicated feelings over how Zach seesawed between helping us and refusing to help us didn’t begin to touch the tangle of emotions I felt when I thought of his boss. Yet Zach was right. I was quick with my complaints, yet I had rarely thanked the Great Being when Zach’s actions helped us.
I kept my eyes closed, but in my mind, I directed them upward. Thank you, I thought, surprised when that simple acknowledgment released a slew of emotions I’d been trying not to feel. You’ve saved us a lot through Zach, and through other people, too. I really am grateful, but to be honest, I’m also mad at you. You didn’t save my parents, or my birth mother, or my bio dad, or Tomas, or all the other people who were much better and more deserving than me. And why did you let me fall in love with Adrian, only to take me away from him so soon? I know you’re not cruel, but why do you let so many terrible things happen? There’s so much pain in the world. Do you not care? And if you do care, why don’t you do something about it?
My tears increased with every question, until they drenched my cheeks. At the same time, I was inwardly cringing. So much for displaying some long-overdue gratitude! I hadn’t intended to turn my thanks into an indictment, yet I had, and if there was one thing I knew, it was that the supernatural was real and pissing it off had consequences. If a lightning bolt suddenly struck me, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
“You’re not going to be struck by a lightning bolt.”
That’s right. Zach could hear everything. I opened my eyes, expecting him to be glaring at me, since he was pretty defensive over his boss. That was why it surprised me to find that his dark gaze was kind.
“He doesn’t strike people down for being honest about their questions, doubts and pain,” Zach continued. “He already knows everything you’re feeling, so there’s no secret to be kept by refusing to bring your struggles to Him.”
I glanced at the sky, embarrassed that moments ago, I had half expected to see a lightning bolt at the ready, or a cloud formation in the shape of an upraised fist.
“Good to know,” I said softly. “But I’m not going to get any answers, am I?”
“Not the way you want.” Zach’s gaze was steady. “As I told you before, sometimes you have to believe before you can see, and some things can never be seen this side of eternity.”
Cop-out, I thought. He might as well have said that cliché “mysterious ways” line, too.
Zach’s mouth curled. “I still can, if you like.”
“Save it,” I said, gripping Adrian’s hand now that mine had finally healed enough to do so. “We need to get this stick and ourselves back on hallowed ground before the sun sets. Hey, speaking of the stick, you said before that the spearhead was all that was left of the weapon. What’s up with that?”
Zach gave me a sardonic look. “Archons do not know everything. When I told you that the spearhead was all that remained, I believed it. I only found out when I was ordered to direct you to this place that the shaft of the weapon still remained.”
I snorted. “Guess it’s nice to know that humans aren’t the only ones kept in the dark. Well, as I was saying, we need to get ourselves and this stick back to hallowed ground right away, unless you can pull us into a light realm?” I added hopefully.
That slight curl wiped from Zach’s mouth, leaving it in a thin, straight line. “I cannot.”
I blew out a sigh. “Orders, huh?”
Zach nodded, and I reminded myself that he’d already helped us plenty. He’d probably end up helping us again later, too, so—
“I will not help you again,” Zach stated. “It has been ordered.” Then, incredibly, something like sadness flickered across Zach’s features. “And without my help, both of you will likely meet the same fate.”
My breath expelled from me as if I’d been punched. The finality of his words couldn’t be clearer. He wasn’t just saying that we were on our own from now on. He was saying both of us were going to die.
Adrian’s hand tightened on mine. When I looked at him, the grimness in his features told me that he’d come to the same conclusion. But he smiled when he met my eyes, and when he spoke, his tone was light.
“It’s fine. I never wanted to outlive you anyway, and now I know I won’t have to. Hell, I’m relieved.”
“Adrian, I...” My voice cracked under the weight of everything I wanted to say.
He squeezed my hand again, then let it go to stroke my face. “Don’t. It’s taken me too long, but I finally believe that you, Costa and Zach are right. This fight is too important for us to sit out.” His mouth twisted. “Besides, long before I met you, I swore I’d do anything to even the score between me and demons. You’re giving me the chance to do that. Don’t feel guilty, Ivy. I’ve waited a long time to make them pay.”
How could he tell me not to feel guilty? By being with me, he was heading right to his own death. He didn’t want me to feel bad about that? How could I not feel bad about that?
“Don’t cry,” he whispered, leaning forward until his forehead touched mine. “Maybe being tied to the Davidian-heritage light has finally started making a difference in me. Otherwise, I’d be screaming at you not to do this, or scheming to stop you, but instead, I want us to finish this. Together.”
I threw my arms around him and kissed him. Words failed, so I tried to tell him with my body and my lips that I was in awe of his bravery, that I was so sorry we had so little time left together and that I would love him forever because the rest of my life wasn’t nearly enough to cover it.
He kissed me back with the same intensity. Soon, I forgot that we had an Archon audience. Didn’t care that we were still covered in our blood, demon blood and demon ash. Didn’t mind that his shadows were wrapping around me in a dark embrace to draw me closer, or that we had less than an hour left until the sun was down. There was only the two of us. Nothing else mattered.
Far too soon, Adrian drew away, smiling again as he brushed the tears from my cheeks. “Don’t think about tomorrow or the next day,” he whispered. “However many hours, days or weeks we have left, we’re going to make them count. I promise you.”
Then he turned to Zach, who hadn’t left, to my surprise. He’d already said his version of goodbye, and he’d never been big on watching me and Adrian make out, so I expected him t
o be gone. Yet there he was.
“You can’t take us into a light realm, but do me a favor,” Adrian said in a steady tone. “Take Brutus. Give him to Costa, and tell Costa to split what’s in my bank accounts with Jasmine. There’s enough to take care of both of them for the rest of their lives, plus keep Brutus in plenty of high-end raw meat.”
Another sob clawed its way up my throat, but this time, I held it there. I couldn’t keep breaking down no matter if it felt as if my heart were being repeatedly ripped out. Adrian was going through everything that I was, yet he was holding it together. I had to hold it together, too.
“Please,” I said to Zach, and also echoed the plea silently in the direction of where his orders came from.
Moments later, to my relief, Zach nodded. “I will do it.”
Thank you, I thought with a glance upward. Then, even though it hadn’t been Zach’s call, I said it to him, too.
“Thank you. Just give us a minute to say goodbye to him.”
“Brutus,” Adrian called out, and the gargoyle reluctantly came out from under the nearby tree that had been shading him.
I drew in a deep breath. Don’t cry, I told myself sternly. It’ll only upset Brutus, and he’s already not going to like this.
Yet when he came out, giving first a wary look at the sun and then a baleful one at me for forcing him to be out in it, I felt new tears roll down my cheeks. To cover them, I smiled at Brutus and gestured for him to bend down so I could hug him.
He did at once. He might be unhappy about the sun, but he’d never turn down a good cuddle. My arms couldn’t make it around his big body, of course, but now my tear-streaked face was hidden in his chest as I gave his wings, his ears and the back of his head a good scratch.
“Who’s the best boy?” I told him, fighting to keep my voice from breaking. “You are. You’re the smartest, best, most handsome gargoyle in the world, yes you are—yes you are!”
He began to wiggle with joy. I continued to pet, scratch and praise him, knowing the time until dark was drawing nearer, yet also knowing that this would be my last chance.
“I am going to miss you so much, but I know Costa will take great care of you.”
My heart squeezed when a whine came out of him. He’d understood that, and when Adrian said something else to him in Demonish, Brutus’s whine turned into a wail.
“It’s okay,” I said quickly while Adrian continued to talk to him in Demonish. He put his arms around Brutus and his face against the gargoyle’s while he spoke to him in soothing tones.
I didn’t understand the words, but I knew when Brutus accepted what Adrian was telling him. His head dropped onto Adrian’s shoulder, and his great body heaved out what could only be called a dry sob.
I had to look away so I didn’t dissolve into tears. Adrian had been given Brutus right after the gargoyle was born. He told me once that Brutus used to be so small, he could carry him around as if he were a baby, and that later, Brutus had broken everything in his house while he was first learning to fly. If leaving him was hurting me this much and I’d known him only less than a year, I couldn’t imagine what it was doing to Brutus and to Adrian, who’d been together for decades.
“You’ll be fine,” Adrian finished in English, chucking Brutus under his chin. “Costa doesn’t realize it, but you’ll have him wrapped around your talons in no time flat. Jasmine, too, I’ll bet.”
“Adrian,” Zach said quietly.
He glanced up at the sky, which was turning a softer shade of indigo as the sun dipped lower. “I know.” He sighed.
I gave Brutus a kiss on the side of his face and didn’t pull away when he slimed both my cheeks with a lick. “Love you, Brutus,” I said, then forced myself to walk away without a backward glance. If I looked back, I’d lose the last shred of control that I had, and there was no time left for that.
I felt a hand on my shoulder while still hearing Adrian say his final goodbyes, so I knew it wasn’t his.
“Thank you,” I said to Zach. “I know you’ll say you only did what you were ordered to, but you still saved us, helped us, revealed things to us and, every once in a while, just talked to us, too. That means a lot to me, and I’m sorry I didn’t say that enough before now.”
His hand stayed on my shoulder. “You’ve often questioned why you were chosen to be the last of the Davidians. I, too, have wondered that same thing many times.”
Thanks a lot, I thought with an internal sniff.
Then Zach’s voice deepened. “Know this, Ivy Jenkins—I don’t wonder it any longer.”
A choked sound escaped me. “Thanks,” I said with awed sincerity. “That’s probably the best compliment I’ll ever get.”
His hand left my shoulder. “As I told you before, I do not indulge in idle compliments. I only state what I know to be true. Farewell, Ivy.”
“Goodbye, Zach—”
I turned around, but he was already gone. So was Brutus. From the stunned look on Adrian’s face, they’d both disappeared without any warning. All that was left was Brutus’s harness, the satchel that had been attached to it and the stick that used to form the base of a two-thousand-year-old Roman weapon that had been used in the most famous execution in history.
Adrian looked around as if making sure that Brutus and Zach were really gone. Then a short, mirthless laugh left him.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised. Zach had never been big on saying goodbye.”
I forced out a false laugh. “Archons, right?”
I wasn’t about to tell Adrian that Zach had said an unexpectedly thorough and kind goodbye to me. Adrian didn’t deserve to feel left out any more than he already did. I didn’t know why, either. Adrian was sacrificing just as much as I was, if not more. Why couldn’t Zach have told him that before he left?
He’d been blunt about the fact that he wasn’t coming back, so of course, I wouldn’t get an answer. Instead, I went to Adrian and linked my hand with his. He squeezed back at once, then let go to pick up the satchel and sling it around his neck.
“Don’t forget to grab the pilum,” he said, not touching it.
As if I would. I took it, noticing then that the slingshot and the staff had resumed their normal position as tattoos on my body at some point. I hadn’t noticed them returning, but I’d had a lot to claim my attention. I pulled my sweater back on and checked to make sure that I still had rocks in my pockets, then nodded to Adrian that I was ready.
We had two and a half out of the three hallowed weapons we needed to finish this. Now, on to finding the rest of the third one, although we couldn’t start our search until morning. I looked at the deepening indigo sky and shivered. It would be dark soon, and the demons would be back. Guaranteed.
“Where to now?” I asked Adrian.
He glanced at the sky as if judging exactly how many minutes of sunlight we had left. “I know just the place.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
WE DIDN’T GO back to the Aula Palatina. After part of the ceiling had fallen out and three of the guards had been flattened by a gargoyle disguised as a seagull, it would invite too much chaos to return. To avoid dealing with hiding inside a church, mosque or synagogue and risk being caught and kicked out, Adrian had chosen a cemetery as our hallowed ground for the night. We got there with ten minutes to spare before sundown, and it was large enough that I wasn’t concerned about being spotted by the living. As for the dead, they didn’t care that we were there, and right now, I appreciated the peace and quiet.
“How did you know about this place?” I asked as Adrian and I walked through what looked like the military burial section. I couldn’t be sure because I couldn’t read the German signs or inscriptions, but the headstones were all the same size and shape, plus they were laid out with grid-like precision.
He glanced at me. “I went here
after I set fire to the Aula Palatina. I didn’t want to go back to my realm, religious houses felt too foreign and I couldn’t stay where I was.”
I sighed. “I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you. It must have felt like everything you loved and believed in had shattered when you saw this world. No wonder you flipped out and tried to burn that place down. Aside from your demon side subconsciously reacting to the pilum being there, it must have also felt cathartic to try to destroy something that conflicted with what you were taught.”
“Some days,” he said pensively. “But not that one. I came here in the 1940s.” He led me to another section of the cemetery. This one had a brick-and-stone monument showing a man bent down on one knee, his upper body slumped forward as if in weary, helpless agony. The inscription on the base was in German again, so I couldn’t read it.
“It’s to mark the victims of Nazi tyranny.” Adrian’s tone held a grim note of remembrance. “You can bet Demetrius took me to see this world during the Holocaust. That indescribable cruelty, all those merciless slaughters...back then, it was easy to keep believing that demons were far better than humans.”
I said nothing. During that period of time, it had been more true than not. It didn’t excuse what demons were or everything they’d done before or afterward, but forgetting the depths of depravity that humanity could sink to only meant that we were more likely to sink to those depths again.
I gave a longer look at the statue of the broken, kneeling man that represented millions of oppressed, imprisoned and slaughtered Jews. With my Davidian lineage, if my biological mother’s side of the family had been in Germany during that time, they might have been slaughtered, too. Instead, due to my Latina makeup, at some point, they must have migrated to Mexico or South America. They had survived, so I had survived, yet far too many had not.
I squared my shoulders as I continued to stare at the statue. I now had a chance to fight for others who were without hope because they were being oppressed and slaughtered. I might not be able to save all the ones trapped in the demon realms, but if I could save some, half or—dare I be so optimistic?—most, it would be more than worth it.
The Brightest Embers Page 20
