by Cate Corvin
“Or perhaps Heaven failed me first, and Hell lifted me up,” I said quietly.
“They’ll take him when they come.” Gabriel’s eyes were wild, and the chains rattled softly. His chest rose and fell rapidly. “Your Nephilim. They’ll see me in him, and they’ll raise him out of your reach to punish you. Enjoy him while you can-”
“Goodbye, Gabriel.” I turned on my heel, blocking out the sound of his vitriol. I wouldn’t stand here and let him sow discord in my mind.
His thin scream bounced off the walls of the cell. “No, don’t leave me here, Melisande! Don’t leave me!”
The chains rattled, and two things happened at once, so quickly my brain froze as it watched.
Gabriel lunged towards me, his hands splayed as though he meant to grab me. I stepped out of reach, moving so quickly I stumbled.
And Tascius prowled into the cell.
He saw Gabriel’s wide, crazed eyes, the strained muscles lunging against the chains, and then glanced at me as I straightened myself up again.
Darkness flooded his eyes and his lips drew back over his teeth in a feral grin. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but it was far too late. He moved like lightning, a tiger in human skin.
Tascius smashed into Gabriel, slamming into him so hard the wounded archangel hit the back wall of the cell with a sharp crack. The chains rattled out an insane melody as the Nephilim buried his fists in Gabriel’s gut over and over, leaving black bruises behind.
“My son,” Gabriel gasped, blood pouring over his chin.
Those were the wrong words. Tascius roared in his face, gripped a handful of the silvery hair he’d inherited, and tore with all his strength.
Gabriel’s head hit the floor. The walls were painted with blood that looked black. The archangel’s body slumped to the ground, and the rattling chains went silent.
My heart was pounding so hard I was sure Tascius would hear it. The steady drip of blood and Tascius’s harsh breathing were the only sounds, but if I moved so much as an inch while the Nephilim’s shoulders were heaving, he might turn all the fury on the only other living being in here… me.
The blood spread silently, pooling at my toes and soaking into my shoes. Sickness rose in my throat, and I took a step back, careful of where I placed my feet.
But the wetness on my soles wasn’t silent. My boot made a soft sound, and Tascius’s head whipped around, his black eyes focusing on me.
There was nothing of Tascius left in them at all.
15
Melisande
I slowly held up my hands, my feet frozen in place.
He was crouched over Gabriel’s body, his hands and arms slicked with gore up to the elbows, and my stomach twisted as he rose to his feet in one smooth, deliberate motion.
Every fiber of him was taut, his dark eyes pits of blackness.
For the first time, I felt a tinge of real fear at the sight of Tascius unleashed. If he recognized me at all, he gave no sign of it.
The tips of his white wings were stained red, and the feathers fanned out as he turned towards me, his head cocking sideways as he wiped his bloody hands on his shirt. It was such a normal movement, so Tascius-like, that I dared to speak.
“It’s me,” I whispered, almost choking on it. My throat was completely dry. “Tascius. You know me.”
A low snarl started in his chest and moved upwards, terrifying in how animalistic it was.
I couldn’t move an inch. The way he was poised, the utter stillness of him… he was a predator now, waiting for the only prey in sight to make a move. Then the real hunt would begin.
I licked my dry lips and tried to speak again, but all that came out was a dry squeak.
He took a step forward experimentally, still staring at me. Waiting to see if I’d turn and run.
I wasn’t that dumb.
We remained there for a minute that felt like an eternity, both of us staring each other down, and I was starting to think that maybe the rage would seep away. Then the muscles in his shoulders tightened.
I ducked aside, slipping in Gabriel’s blood as Tascius hit the wall where I’d been standing only seconds ago. I went down hard, the skin on my knees splitting when they hit the floor, and I scuttled backwards, nearly touching Gabriel’s body.
Tascius straightened up, the veins standing out in cords in his neck, and swung his head, sniffing for me.
“Tascius, don’t you dare.” I growled the words at him, my own rage rising under the fear. He could fight it; I’d seen it before.
I groped for the knife at my belt as Tascius prepared to lunge again, knowing it was useless, knowing I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him.
A gold and black storm hit him like a whirlwind, white wings mixing with black, feathers filling the air in a storm. A blaze of light blinded me, piercing my skull like the rays of the sun.
Hands touched me. Gentle hands, scooping me up from the floor and out of the blood, and I smelled Belial before I saw him. I blinked hard, willing the spots burned into my vision to vanish as the Prince carried me away, spitting a stream of curses.
“You’re bleeding, angel,” he said hoarsely. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and opened them again, barely able to pick out his features.
“Don’t let him kill Tascius.” I gripped Belial’s shoulder, ignoring the sharp pain radiating through my knees. “Don’t let them hurt him. That’s the worst it’s ever been, but I don’t want him hurt for it.”
I could see just enough to make out the stormy scowl on his face. “He tried to hunt you, Melisande. He’ll get what he deserves.”
There was no mercy in his tone at all. I struggled against him, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but he anticipated every move, adjusting his handhold to keep me from going anywhere. Even beating my wings failed to loosen him up. There wasn’t enough room to rise.
He set me on something hard, and I squinted. The bone dais. He’d placed me on the stairs, and I smelled spun sugar and flowers as a pale blotch entered my vision.
Vyra’s gasp was soft. “What happened, Melisande? Why did you disappear on us?”
I needed to stop them before they hurt Tascius. But when I tried to rise, Vyra pushed me back down. I was weak, the adrenaline rush of terror coming to an end and leaving me feeling washed out and shaky.
“I wanted to talk to Gabriel,” I said, finally deigning to remain seated as Vyra dabbed at my knees with a wet cloth. My vision was starting to clear, and I blinked and saw that my dress was shredded where I’d landed on hard stone. “I’ve had a suspicion I needed to ask him about, but… Gabriel is dead now. Tascius killed him. He thought Gabriel was attacking me.”
Which made no sense why he’d tried to attack me afterwards. Whenever Tascius had gone into his rages before on my behalf, he’d always retained some sense of self-possession and protectiveness towards me.
This time, he’d been completely gone.
I understood now what he meant by making a monster. Now that he was whole, he was faster, stronger… more lethal. Maybe the power of his rage had increased proportionally.
And now he wouldn’t even recognize me when he turned.
My chest felt like it’d been hollowed out. Maybe I’d been naïve to think that love would conquer all and heal every wound. In the end, he was what he was, and if that was a monster… then it was a monster I loved.
I’d truly believed he wouldn’t harm me. Maybe he would’ve turned aside at the last second, but… then again, maybe not.
“He’s going to be different now,” Vyra said, glancing towards the corridor every so often. “Maybe it’s best if we keep you away from him for a while, until he can control himself.”
“And what if that’s never?” I barely felt the sting of cleaning liquid on my scraped skin, I was so focused on willing a sane and normal Tascius to walk out of that hall. “What if he’s always going to be like this? He can’t control it.”
Vyra gave me a pitying look that made me sick inside. “Then maybe you
need to make a hard choice. I know you love him, but… he’s Nephilim, Melisande. He’ll never be free of the rage.”
I set my jaw, but any response I had was lost when Belial came into the arena, carrying a dark cloth sack over his shoulder. I didn’t need to look too hard to see the saturated fabric, the blood dripping a trail behind him.
“I’ll take care of the body,” he said, casting a dark look at Vyra and my injuries. “Lucifer has him in the chains.”
With that, he disappeared, presumably to turn Gabriel’s remains into so much ash.
I watched him walk out, still fuzzy with everything that had happened, but something of dire importance occurred to me. Without a word to Vyra, I got up and dashed out, following Belial to Arcturus’s pasture.
He was already building pyre, stacking dry kindling on the ashy sand.
“Wait, you can’t burn all of him,” I said breathlessly. Belial had tossed the bag with Gabriel’s corpse in it to the ground. My stomach flipped as I yanked it open, reaching into the blood-smeared depths for what I was looking for.
When I found it, I pulled a knife off my belt and brought it down hard, severing tissue, tendon, and bone. It took several hacks to pull it free, but when I was done, I held Gabriel’s right hand. Blood was drying over the scars, pooling in the ridges of the pattern.
“Why are you desecrating the corpse, angel?” Belial asked. I looked up to find him watching me warily, like I’d lost my mind.
Maybe I had lost my mind. But I needed Gabriel’s hand and the scars as proof. It was the only way I’d be able to convince them.
“I need this.” I waved the disembodied hand in the air. “Look at his palm. See the scars?”
Belial stared at the bloody hand for a moment, then looked back at me, still scowling. “I see them.”
“He was just like me. He didn’t have some magical power that let him hold the Sword unscathed.” I lowered Gabriel’s hand. “Which means if he could do it, I can do it.”
Belial paused after throwing another log on the makeshift pyre. His aqua eyes were veiled, but the scowl slowly relaxed into a frown, which was a good sign. “Just because Gabriel could manage it doesn’t mean you should risk it.”
It was my turn to scowl. “We’ll see. I’d stick around for the burning, but honestly, this bastard doesn’t deserve any mourners at his funeral.”
I stepped past the body without a second glance at it. Gabriel was finally wiped from this world, and if the circumstances were different, I would’ve been celebrating.
For now, I had other, more important things to see to.
I stopped inside the arena doors and ripped a length of reasonably clean cloth from my skirt, and wrapped Gabriel’s hand in it. Lady Savage raised an eyebrow when I handed it to her. “Guard this with your life,” I told her. “Put it on ice or something. I need it preserved exactly as it is.”
Lucifer guarded the cell at the end of the hall. A long gouge ran down the side of his face, the blood still clotting. Without a word, I pressed my hand against his chest and let the white fire of my healing magic pour through me.
The wound knit, but his expression didn’t change. He looked cold and remote, wearing the mask of the Prince of Hell. “He’s in the chains. Melisande, I would tell you to stay out of there, but…”
“No.” I removed my hand once his injuries were healed. “I love him, too, and if he’s bound he can’t turn on me. This is for me to settle with him.”
Lucifer didn’t lose the cold look, but he let me walk past him without a fight.
The stench of copper filled my nose as I stepped into the cell. The chains had been ripped from the walls, but they were bound around my Nephilim. He sat with his back against the wall, staring blankly at the opposite side.
“You shouldn’t be in here.” He didn’t even look at me when he spoke, his voice dead.
I settled next to him, avoiding the puddle of blood. “I wish everyone would stop telling me where I should and shouldn’t be.”
This close to him, I saw the clearness in his eyes. The rage was gone, but despair had taken its place.
“I told you I was monstrous. Now you’ve seen it for yourself. This is what lives inside of me, and it doesn’t matter how I feel about you when I’m lucid. The rage is something else.” He closed his eyes. Faint lines of strain were written on his face. “I wasn’t myself. I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts; it was like I suddenly didn’t exist at all. It’s safer for you if I’m gone.”
The thought of Tascius leaving sent a jab of pain through my heart. “We knew there was a chance you’d have to struggle through it,” I said fiercely. “So let’s struggle. All you need to do is get used to the feeling so you can fight it. You’ll still know me.”
He finally looked at me. Gazing back into his eyes was like looking in the windows of an empty house.
“And how do we do that?” he asked. “Put you in direct danger over and over again? Risk your life just to make me feel better about myself? That makes as much sense as painting yourself in blood and lying naked in front of a tiger, expecting it won’t eat you.”
I shoved a hand through my hair in frustration. I knew he was dangerous. I’d known it from the first day I’d met him, and I’d still accepted it.
Hell, we were all dangerous in our own way. If anything, he was better off here with us, with people who could commiserate.
“You’re not a tiger.”
“No, I’m worse.” He let out a humorless laugh. “A full blood Nephilim is a hundred times worse than a tiger. I’m a walking timebomb waiting to happen.”
Tascius looked away and wouldn’t meet my eyes again. I idly rubbed the cross Lucifer had left on my chest, taking comfort from the mark. “What if I have an idea that could help?”
“You always have ideas, little friend. There are no ideas that could help this. I’m sorry, but I’m not indulging you this time.”
“Please do.” The mark was warm, but I felt Lucifer’s anger through it, a simmering boil directed at Tascius. “You could still know me, even when you’re not yourself. Just put your mark on me and accept it! Even in the rage, you’d feel me. You’d have an unbreakable connection to me.”
He shook his head, closing his eyes. “I’m not tying you to me when I should be far from here.”
“You’re not going anywhere-” I started to say, and his eyes snapped open.
“Don’t you get it?” he shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls. At least anger replaced the hollowness of his voice, so he no longer sounded like the talking dead. “I almost killed you! I had no idea who you were, I didn’t remember your face! I’m not right inside, and I’m not binding us together when I’m a direct danger to your life.”
He struggled against the chains for a moment and finally fell still and silent.
I gazed at him for a moment. “You can shout all you want, but I’m not giving up on you.”
“Melisande…” A line furrowed between his brows. “I won’t be the death of you.”
I picked at the stone floor, looked at the scabbing scratches on my knees. “You see, I still believe that love is the highest power, and that everything we’ve done is for the right reasons. I’m not blind to reality, friend, but I’m not willing to just let you walk away, either. The Visionary said this path was going to be hard.”
“The Visionary is an old woman high on fucking mushroom tea,” he said through gritted teeth. “She fed you a line of bullshit.”
“She said it was going to be hard, but this was the path with happiness at the end,” I continued, pretending I hadn’t heard him. “Giving up is the easiest way. I’d rather take the hard way and push through.”
“You can’t keep walking the path if you’re dead,” he snarled, but there was no heat in his words.
“No, I can’t.” I gripped his jaw and forced him to look at me. “So we’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen again. I have faith in you, Tascius. I always will. So when you’re ready, tell me, and we�
��ll bind ourselves together in more than name. I didn’t give one of my feathers to a coward or the kind of man who’d run away, nor to the kind of man who’d kill me because he didn’t fight against it.”
He looked into my eyes, and sighed. “You put too much faith in the wrong people.”
I kissed his forehead, not wanting to risk his ire when he seemed to finally be weighing my words. “No, I put it in people who deserve it.”
But even as I spoke, I felt Azazel, Lucifer, and Belial through their marks, their seething anger and worry.
I hoped they’d believe in him, too.
16
Melisande
I felt like I was wrapped in a bubble of rage threatening to boil over as I waited for them to free Tascius. My Nephilim wouldn’t even look at me; he was lost in his own thoughts, his brow furrowed, eyes distant.
They finally relented and allowed him out of the chains. When they fell to the floor in a clatter, Tascius just stood there silently, flexing his arms. Red marks marred his skin where the chains had bitten into him.
He’d been wrapped in them for almost six hours, until Azazel finally let out a disgusted sigh and waved a hand at Belial. “Release him. It’s passed; Gabriel is dead. There’s nothing else here to set him off.”
Lucifer had set his jaw at this proclamation, but he didn’t argue with Azazel. Now that the one person Tascius hated the most out of all of Heaven and Hell was so much dust on a pyre, there was nothing to worry about.
Besides… the one thing they’d refused to listen to me about was that Tascius hadn’t come in there meaning to attack me. He’d meant to defend me, against Gabriel.
I wished he wouldn’t be so hard on himself. Maybe if he accepted what he was, he’d find it easier to master it. I knew that feeling perfectly well myself. Once you accepted that there was a part of you that was a cold-blooded killer and always would be, there was peace in knowing what you were.
Eventually I gave up and left Tascius to his thoughts. He’d come back to me soon enough.
