All That Falls (41 page)

She let go of herself and lived up to her pure intentions. Whatever happened, she would have done her best. Blood streaming from her cuts, muscles aching and strained, she still felt the buzz of adrenaline, of heaven’s grace. When she was close enough to Lysander, she stole a kiss. “For luck,” she’d said with a wink before rushing back into the fray. She’s seen the ghost of his glorious smile and carried it with her for all the hours that came afterward.

Toward the end, she chased a demon into the woods, where Reziel lay in wait for her. She felt him, but pretended she didn’t.

He tucked his blade away and stretched out his massive hands. She recognized his intention. He would rape and strangle her and break her neck. He would stretch her broken body out for Lysander to find.

Her nerves hummed, but it wasn’t fear that wove through her soul anymore. It was rage mixed with anticipation. Reziel couldn’t defeat Lysander in a fair fight, so he’d tricked and betrayed him. Then Reziel had gone on to exploit those who were weaker than himself. He didn’t just want to steal
their souls. He wanted to destroy them. To leave them damaged and without hope, just as he’d once left Cerise dazed and confused and aching from a wound she couldn’t heal or even comprehend.

But things were different now. The damage he’d done to her while she was with Griffin was done casually. She’d been a means to an end, someone with whom to toy. Not so anymore. Now he hated her. She’d seen it in his eyes. All night he’d watched her fight alongside Lysander and felt their bond. It enraged him.

Still not immune to jealousy, Reziel?
she thought as she waited. She was ready now. It wasn’t only her own blood coursing through her veins. The blood that fed her muscles was archangel blood. And using muse magic, she’d channeled it like no other human being ever could have.

Reziel hovered, rustling the leaves. She didn’t smell demon. He’d rolled in pine needles to disguise his scent. He smelled like winter, like Christmas.

When he was close, he dove in a blur of speed. The rush of air blew back her hair as she dropped to a knee and pivoted. She thrust her blade up and released the spring. The blade sliced his flesh, nicked his ribs, and slid straight into his heart. He plummeted to the ground, which drove the spike through him.

She shoved his body off her and rose to her feet, pulling out her gun. She leaned over him, pressed the muzzle to the base of his neck, and pulled the trigger. The bullet severed his spine, and he went flaccid. She knew it wouldn’t kill him, wouldn’t damage him forever. She just needed his undivided attention for a few moments.

She knelt with her knee in his lower back and leaned her mouth near his ear, closing her hands around his massive throat and squeezing.

“The next time you choke someone, I want you to remember how it feels to suffocate.” She tightened her grip for effect. “And I want you to understand that the pain and terror you reap take you further away from what you long for,” she whispered.

“Yes, I know what you want more than anything, Reziel. More than revenge. More than mankind’s destruction. More
than God’s grace and the warmth of heaven. More than all things, you want him.” She shoved her knee deeper into his back. “Don’t you?”

She let go of his throat and pressed the tip of her dagger to his flesh where his left wing emerged from his back. “I don’t blame you. He’s beautiful.”

She pricked his skin and a drop of blood welled up, staining the blade. “It would drive anyone crazy to have lost him. But you betrayed him…and yourself.” She exhaled, her breath rustling his hair. “That’s why you can’t have him back. He belongs to heaven and to me. And we’ll never let you take him.”

Reziel’s body twitched with impotent rage. Cerise thrust the knife into his back and felt his terror as she sliced him open. She winced, but shoved her foot against the base of his wing and stomped. Then she rocked with the entire weight of her body against its root. The wing cracked, and she threw her shoulder against it and allowed gravity to slam her to the ground, wrenching his wing from his back and cracking all his ribs.

His agonized scream seemed to last forever. Lysander came crashing into the woods as Reziel’s body turned ashen and died.

“You managed to take one of his wings,” Lysander said, astonished.

“I did,” she said and added in a whisper, “Retribution. He took something precious from me once and was trying to do it again.”

She sat on a fallen tree, resting her weapon next to her. Lysander sat beside her, close enough for their thighs to touch. He was blood-smeared and dirty, but gorgeous and glorious, too. He was born a warrior and he’d just fought hard and come through a great war. The white of his smile was almost blinding, and the urge to kiss him had never been stronger.

“I cracked my wing again, but only a small break this time. I think it’ll be healed in a few hours.”

“Good. I hate to see you grounded. You’re meant to be in the air.”

“I don’t regret being recently earthbound. Time spent with you feels as great as flying. The way you and Merrick fought Purim, sublime. And the kiss you gave me after, equally so.”

“That was hardly a kiss. It lasted two seconds.”

“Did it? It felt longer. I definitely carried the effects for longer,” he said, glancing down at his lap.

She laughed.

“Did you notice that even full of my blood, you were able to use your muse gift? The divine power of one doesn’t extinguish the other. A good sign. The muse daughter you want to give the world could be part mine.”

“If there’s time before you’re called back,” she said, glancing at the sky.

“I don’t know that I’ve earned my redemption yet. We could be here for many more years,” he said, not sounding sorry. She smiled.

“How is everyone else?” she asked, thinking of Ileana’s dead body that ES had removed from the ritual site.

“While I fought Uriah and Nathaniel fought a pair of lesser demons, Lucifer attacked Merrick.”

She leaned forward.

“Merrick vanquished him.” Lysander smiled, clearly proud. “Of course, I’ll never hear the end of this. How he defeated the prince of hell single-handedly.” Lysander rolled his eyes. “I suppose I’ll have to concede that being married hasn’t taken all the bite out of his blade. And his wife’s contribution to helping you close the gate was significant. If you hadn’t done that, we would’ve been overrun.” He ran a hand through his hair and his smile widened. “It was a great fight. If I hadn’t known what would come next, I would’ve hated to see it end.”

“What comes next?”

“You reward me for saving the world.” He glanced sideways at her with a sly look. “And I reward you.”

“Ah, the spoils of war,” she said, running a finger over his chest. “Can’t beat those.”

“For certain,” he said, but then he turned his head and his smile faded.

A glow bathed the sky and lit the horizon. The air shimmered, and she could just make out the impression of a large angel. He looked as though his breastplate was made of silver and his body carved from crystal.

Lysander rose. “Hello, Gabriel.”

“You finally had a battle with the forces of hell that was worthy of you,” Gabriel said.

“Better late than never I hope,” Lysander said.

Gabriel nodded. “You kept your promise. We’re pleased to keep ours.”

Lysander glanced over his shoulder at Cerise. “Cerise is one of the Etherlin muses. You saw her contribution?”

Gabriel nodded. “We understand she’s not ready to leave here yet. Bound to you, she couldn’t stay alone. But her gift and her willingness to defend mankind against hell deserves consideration. Heaven bade me to tell you that it will release the binding if you both wish. You’ll ascend, and she’ll stay and live the remainder of her life.”

Lysander stiffened and raised his brows. “If we’re no longer bound, will she forget me?”

“It’s the best way. Connections to an archangel invite demon attention. You know this to be true. And it will be easier on her if she can’t remember what she’s lost.”

“The others?” Lysander asked. “They’ll forget as well?”

“Merrick’s nephilim. For him, you won’t completely fade. But the others, yes. There will be occasional dreams, momentary glimmers, but otherwise they won’t have known you. It’s for the best.” Gabriel stepped forward. “I’ll leave you to say your good-byes. Congratulations, Lysander. Welcome home, brother.” Gabriel gripped Lysander’s arm, and a burst of white light engulfed them. Lysander sucked in a breath and shuddered.

Cerise felt the difference immediately. The gold of his skin glowed, and warmth radiated from him all the way to her. Gabriel turned and walked to the wood’s edge.

Cerise forced herself to smile. “Congratulations.”

“I always thought when this moment came…” He looked away, and she felt how torn he was.

She stood and walked to him. “You belong there.” She swallowed. “And even if I can’t remember, I think a part of me will always know I loved you.”

He glanced at the sky, then at her. “I don’t want you to forget.”

“What choice do we have?” she asked gently.

“Are you ready?” Gabriel called.

“No,” Lysander said.

“Another few minutes?”

Hidden between their bodies, the fingers of Lysander’s right hand closed around hers. Tears shone in his eyes, and he clenched them shut.

She felt his struggle. He belonged to heaven and couldn’t refuse to return home, but he couldn’t stand to lose her, either. And by his reaction, she knew he was upset by more than a few years’ separation. For an immortal, her lifetime would pass in moments.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He didn’t speak, but she felt the answer.

“If we’re unbound and I don’t remember you, I might fall in love with someone else?” she whispered. “You and I might never be reunited on the other side?”

He nodded, eyes still closed. It was as though all the blood was being squeezed from her heart, slowly suffocating her. Would she really be forced to give up even the memory of him?
Forever?
As a tidal wave of regret threatened to engulf her, she thought,
there’s just no way…

A tear spilled over her lashes, and she put her hand on his cheek.

“I—” Her voice cracked, catching on raw emotion. She waited, but he didn’t ask her to choose him. He just stood silently, eyes closed, face anguished. She couldn’t stand the way it hurt. Suddenly nothing mattered except that she had the power to take away his pain.

“All right,” she whispered, touching his lips. “I never want to lose you, either.” She kissed him softly. She swallowed and spoke loud enough for Gabriel to hear. “I don’t want to be unbound.”

“Thank God,” Lysander whispered, then rubbed his eyes and opened them. He looked at her, and his eyes were emerald green and breathtaking. All the muddiness that had made them moss-colored was gone.

“Are you sure?” Gabriel said, walking toward them.

“She’s sure,” Lysander said in a low, steady voice. He looked over his shoulder at Gabriel. “As am I.”

“Lysander, you can stay on earth as an angel of the flesh, and heaven will allow you to marry this girl. It’s been done. But if you’re called back, her soul will have to come. She’ll die instantly—whether there are small children left behind or not,
no matter the circumstances of your life here or hers. You understand that? The nephilim will be left without your protection or hers. If you both come now, there will be no one left unprotected. It would be simpler.”

“But it would be wrong to rob mankind of Cerise’s gift prematurely. And of the legacy she wishes to leave it. We’ll stay as long as we can,” Lysander said with a questioning look at Cerise.

She nodded.

“If there are children, we’ll make arrangements for someone to watch over them. We both have family here.”

Gabriel smiled. “For a warrior, you have always been surprisingly sentimental.”

“For a warrior, love is rarer than war,” Lysander said, tightening his hold on her, “which makes it more precious.”

In the dim green-lit laboratory, Dr. Morgan Sterling sighed, defeated, and dropped her long glass eyedropper into its metal dish. Her digital microscope’s screen glared smugly at her, and she switched the display off and wristed back her sweaty hair.

Another no-result. The virus-infected cells on her slide just squirmed and evaded the serum until it imploded and died. She’d been trying for two weeks to work up some kind of antibody reaction, but none of her solutions sustained the smallest effect for more than a second or two.

Damn it.

Morgan slid off her stool and unpeeled her plastic gloves, dropping them in the trash. “Lights,” she ordered, and the white fluorescents flickered on, illuminating her laboratory’s stainless steel benches, glass-fronted refrigerators, and banks of digital tissue analysis equipment. All this technology, and this damn Manhattan virus still eluded her.

She unbuttoned her white coat, laid it over a chair, and fluffed out her long dark curls. To be fair to herself, this was the Babylon Chief Medical Examiner’s office, not a disease control lab, and she was no expert virologist but just a junior pathologist who did autopsies for a living. City Hall had called in the WHO and the infectious diseases crew from the CDC in Atlanta, and from the daily email updates, no one was making any more headway than she.

But Morgan knew enough about virology to be disappointed
she couldn’t do more. She’d probably get fired for using CME resources for this, even though she was doing it on her own time. Which was why she was in the office at 9 p.m. on a Thursday night, instead of at home or dating her nonexistent boyfriend. Morgan wasn’t big on boyfriends. Sure, she liked men, and they generally found her attractive. She just didn’t have time for relationships when lives were at stake.

And lives were always at stake.

Beyond an internal window covered with half-open venetians, the office TV blared in shimmering 3-D, a newscast featuring some religious nutter raving on about God’s will and the end of the world.