Heaven and Hellsbane (23 page)

The Pirates caught a pop-up to center field and earned their third out. The crowd cheered as players filed off the field and the Yankees took their place. Organ music played a lively chant over the loud speakers and the electronic billboards flashed cartoon word balloons and explosions of fireworks. It was all so perfectly normal.

This was wrong. All wrong. The Fallen never travel without protection, eyes and ears unwaveringly loyal to warn them of coming danger. But this was too much, too many. No one needed this much protection unless they were expecting an army…or collecting one.

“It’s a setup,” I whispered to myself.
So much for the mystical forces of good luck.

“Emma Jane, so good to see you again.”

I turned at the sound of Bariel’s voice. He stood four steps up from demon Jack, his narrow features at odds with his thick face and stout body. He smiled and it lit his violet eyes, bringing a warm glow to his cheeks. It looked good on him, despite the odd sight of his pale green sherwani suit.

“Bariel. Figures you’d be here,” I said, already guessing that Bedford was the Fallen behind Bariel and all the attacks on magisters and their illorum. But why? What was the endgame, and what did it have to do with me? Tension stiffened through my muscles, answers so close I could taste them.

If Bedford really was my angelic father, he had to be some kind of major player with the power to not only unleash a nephilim’s angelic half but to fashion the person a black sword and mark him as a gibborim. Demons, even one as old as Bariel, didn’t have that kind of juice.

Fred and the Council had said only an archangel could manage the power needed to do what Michael had for the illorum. But they’d also said no archangels had fallen since Lucifer. Hadn’t they? Or had they just implied it? Did they even know for sure?

Angels lie
. The words whispered through my mind in a voice so familiar I wasn’t sure if the thought was mine or placed there by someone else. How powerful
was
Jonathan Bedford? How old?

“I’ve come to welcome you,” Bariel said. “And to present you with a unique opportunity.”

“So you’re Jonathan Bedford’s bitch now?” I asked.

The muscles around his eyes and at the corners of his lips tightened, but he reined in his offense and forced a brighter smile. “I serve my savior, Jukar.”

“That’s his real name? Last year Rifion was the wind beneath your wings,” I said. “Pretty fickle for a demon, aren’t you?”

He scoffed, and for the first time his smile faltered. “Rifion served a purpose. I did not serve him. His bloated ego allowed him to believe many things that were too fantastical to be true. My allegiance was but one of them.”

“So you were using him?” I asked.

“He played his part in a grander plan.” Bariel smoothed a hand down his chest, puffed up with pride. “Just as you will…if you choose to accept my offer.”

“Yeah, I’m thinkin’ the odds aren’t looking good for that. I mean, with you being a smelly demon and all.”

“I am not making the offer,” he said. “Your father is. He’d like to meet you. Present the offer himself.”

“He’s just gonna let me, an illorum, walk right up to him?” I shrugged. “Cool. Makes it easier. Lead the way.”

Bariel looked amused by that, even chuckled, and held out his hand. “Your sword.”

“Uh…no.”

“It is the only way you will ever get near him,” Bariel said. “Not many of your kind are given such a gift. You, above most, should be grateful for the opportunity.”

“Right. I am all kinds of grateful. I’m just not stupid. I’m keeping the sword.”

“Then you will die having never spoken to the most divine creature that walks the earth,” he said. “There is none other like him—none as powerful, none as gifted.”

“What is he?” I asked. “What makes him so special?”

“You can see for yourself,” he said. “I ask you again to relinquish your sword. No harm shall come to you. Jukar wishes to meet his child.”

It was dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb with a big-honkin’ capital D. But sue me if a small corner of my heart wanted to meet my father.
Curse you biology!
This was it. I’d found him. My pulse raced, a mix of anticipation and fear thrumming under my skin. I handed over my sword.

After that, getting close to the fallen angel was as easy as taking a step. The next instant I stood on the patio of the luxury box with Bariel, and my sword, behind me. Glass doors made up the wall of the box—inside of which were tall tables and chairs with a plush leather couch and chair further back. People milled around the long buffet table against the wall, hot foods laid out for the taking. In the back was a small bar with a TV overhead, and a second buffet table filled with deserts. It was bizarre in its utter normalcy.

The door slid open and a tall, blond man with coral-blue eyes, a nicely athletic physique, and carrying a tall glass of beer in one hand stepped out to greet us. Fire sizzled through my mark and I flinched, cupping my hand over the spot on reflex.

The man’s rugged face creased in genuine concern. “Sorry about that. I keep forgetting the slap my brother Michael gives our children when we dare come too near to each other. Like training a puppy to bite the hand that feeds it. Smack its nose every time it sniffs its food, and you’ll train it to starve to death.”

“That’s cruel,” I said.

“Yes. It is.” He held out his free hand. “Jonathan Bedford.”

I glanced at his hand but didn’t move. “Let’s cut the bullshit. Your name’s Jukar. You’re a fallen angel. And I’m an illorum.”

“Indeed. Very well.” He brushed his thumb and fingers together, disappointed, and dropped his hand. “I know who you are, Emma Jane. You’re the daughter of Carol Hellsbane.”

“Right.” I snorted. “Like you remember her.”

His light brows went high, and for a second I could see myself in the familiar line of his nose, the curve of his lips. “Of course I remember her. I loved her. I had a child with her. I had you.”

“Fallen don’t love anything but themselves,” I said.

“Really?” he asked. “Is that true of your Eli as well?”

“No.” My stomach clenched, thoughts stumbling over the flaw in what I’d been told, what I believed, and what I knew to be fact. “Eli’s…Eli is different.”

“No doubt. I would dare to say the same of myself.” He turned and rested his hands on the round, metal railing, one hand still holding his beer, his gaze staring out at the field below.

The rain was pouring harder now, and the announcer came over the speaker to say the game would be delayed. Bat boys and stadium employees in matching black rain jackets raced onto the field, working as a team to pull a huge tarp across the infield.

“Exactly how different are you?” I asked. “What are you…really?”
What am I?

“Ahh…that is the question of the ages, isn’t it?” he said. “Perhaps because the answer is so much more complicated than the question would imply. What am I? What was I? What have I become? Everything. And nothing at all. At least I nearly was. But my spirit rallied and became more than I’d ever dreamed. It began with you. Did you know?”

I shook my head and stepped up beside him.

“You are the youngest of my children, and after the memory of me had been taken from you, my sense of loss had reached its limits. I knew one day that you, too, would be turned against me and I couldn’t bear it. I was tired. This existence had become intolerable.”

“What were you planning? Suicide?” Could angels commit suicide? Did it matter? This whole sob story was most likely a lie. I listened anyway.

“Rest. I wanted no more of this world—its passions or pains. I longed for peace where nothing could wound me by thought or action. I’d found the spot, in the deepest parts of the ocean where I might lay down my head until my Father put an end to it all. But it was Bariel who saved me, bringing me back—just as I’d saved him from the abyss centuries before. He reminded me that the power turning my children against me was no greater than my own. I had the strength to win them back, to offer them what Michael had pretended to give.”

“Pretended?”

He glanced sideways at me, a flash of anger flaming behind his brilliant blue eyes. “Your gifts, your blood, is from me. I gave you these things as my brothers passed their gifts to their children. It was Michael and the others who made us bind your powers, making you less than you were born to be. It was the only way to hide you among the humans and the seraphim who sought to destroy you.”

“Our angelic fathers bound our powers?” I wasn’t sure I believed that. I didn’t want to, but something resonated in me telling me there was some truth there.

“To protect you, yes.” He took a sip of his beer and licked his lips. “Some of us, like myself, did not tie the bind too tightly and your powers emerged as small gifts: intuition, foresight, empathic. The seraphim saw these powers and sought to use them—to use our children to do what they lacked the courage to do.”

“Hunt the Fallen,” I said. “Yeah, they explain it a little differently.”

He chuckled. “I don’t doubt it. But there is no denying the truth, Emma Jane. Our children are not born loathing us or craving our heads. Don’t you agree? It is only after they are seduced by Michael’s sword that they turn against us.”

I shrugged, not wanting to answer, not wanting to embolden his logic.

He sighed. “Yes, well, it wasn’t until I suffered the loss of you to his sword that I decided I could not allow it to continue.”

“You really think you can go against Michael? Against the Council?” He didn’t look crazy.

“Michael has done nothing that I cannot do as well.”

“No. Only an archangel has the strength to focus a nephilim’s will, to mark us.” I heard the naïveté in my voice, but I wanted so desperately to believe that Fred and the Council had been honest with me. I needed things to be black and white, right and wrong, good and evil. Everything Jukar said only muddied the waters.

“Exactly.” His smile brightened, but I looked away, dreading what this meant about him…about me. “Did you believe a weakness for human women was our only flaw? Pride is a dangerous thing. To admit that the strongest among them had stumbled is a great and painful blow. Easier to deny all those who stumble, regardless of rank and power. We are all equal in their disregard.”

The storm thundered harder beyond the overhang of the luxury box patio. The seats lower down had nearly all emptied; only a few die-hard fans huddled under umbrellas and plastic sheets. The driving rain had exposed the demons though, most of which sat unflinching, soaked through, waiting for their master to call them into duty.

“I am an archangel, Emma Jane,” he said. “And you are my child. I love you as any father loves his child, but you must realize, we stand at the brink of war, and it is time for you to choose a side.”

“What do you mean? What are you going to do?”

“Nothing they have not already done,” he said. “I’ve recruited our children to help make our kind safe from persecution. Together we will ensure that no more of my brothers will be punished for loving too much, and no more of our children will be whored into battle against their own blood.”

“What about Rifion? You talk like you’re the victim in all of this, but I bet Rifion would disagree. Did you let him take the fall for you?” I asked. “He was your brother. Didn’t you love him?”

“Rifion was warned not to interfere in my work. He was meant only to aid me in breaking the tethers our brothers had put on our children’s powers. It wasn’t time to awaken them, but his ambition got the better of him,” he said. “And, I might add, I was not the one who banished him for his actions.”

My cheeks warmed, remembering the moment my sword sliced through Rifion’s neck and I looked away. This was too much, too confusing. My heart pounded so hard that I could feel its beat vibrating over my skin. “Everything I’ve ever read, ever been told, says that angels weren’t meant to be with humans.”

“What does your heart tell you?” he asked.

“That I love Eli. But what does that matter if it’s forbidden?”

“Forbidden or simply denied?” He turned to face me. “Reward is not given to those who do not fight for it. The angels were made to love humans, commanded to do so. To what degree we are to show that love has yet to be settled.”

“So what are you asking? You allowed me to come up here to explain why I should spare your life? Why? So you can fight the seraphim for the right to free love?”

A great smile blossomed across his face and he threw back his head in laughter. Just when it was becoming damn annoying his chuckles died off and he straightened with one last sigh. “Oh, Emma Jane. No, my daughter. I am not pleading for my life. I am making you an offer, giving you an opportunity to survive the coming war.”

“Right. And how’s that?” I’d taken out an angel before. He was a fool if he underestimated how much I wanted the hell out of this life.

“Work for me. Be my eyes and ears among the seraphim ranks.”

“No.” Spying took a kind of deviousness I just wasn’t capable of. Besides, the seraphim were the good guys…right? “I can’t do it. I won’t.”

“Not even for Eli?” he asked. “Spy for me and I’ll bring him to you. He’s one of us now. As much as he’d like to, he cannot hide from me, not completely. I can feel his heart aching for you. Help me win this war and be with him forever. Refuse me, and I will make certain he is banished to the abyss for all eternity.”

My heart surged, the glimmer of hope tempting me more than I liked. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“No, Emma Jane. I’m an angel.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Dan pushed through the sliding glass door from inside the luxury box just as the announcer called the game due to the rain. He wasn’t in uniform, so he held up his badge to my Fallen father and his demon minion before his suspicious gaze fell on me. “What’s going on, Em?”

“Me? What are
you
doing here?”

“I was watching the game and saw you on TV. Should’ve known when they said the sudden freak storm system would force them to cancel the game that you were behind it somehow.” He shoved his badge into his back pocket and glanced from Jukar to Bariel. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, but you need to go.” The Fallen can’t sense an unmarked nephilim the way demons could, but Bariel already knew what Dan was. I didn’t want him spilling the beans to Jukar, especially since the fallen angel was looking to recruit soldiers for his army. But of course, Dan didn’t listen.

“Good afternoon, officer,” Jukar said, offering his hand. “I’m Jonathan Bedford. This is my company’s box. Is there a problem?”

Dan looked at the man’s hand and back to his face and propped his hands on his hips. “You tell me.”

“This is the nephilim I told you about,” Bariel said. “His powers are still leashed, but he is aware, thanks to your daughter.”

“Daughter?” Dan’s gaze shifted to me, the hurt I’d seen before—of being left behind, of losing me—flashed for an instant and then was gone.

I nodded. “This is Jukar. He’s…my biological father.”

Jukar’s eyes widened at my blunt admission, and Dan gave him the once-over. He looked back to me. “And why is he still standing there with his head attached?”

“Because he’s offered Emma Jane the one thing you can never give her,” Bariel said. “The man she loves.”

I tried not to cringe, ignoring the sickening surge of guilt. “Shut up, Bariel.”

“Is that right?” Dan closed his eyes and shook his head. He was smiling, even chuckling under his breath, but I knew he didn’t find it the slightest bit funny. He looked at the demon standing at the end of the patio behind me. “So why are you still alive? What did you offer her?”

“Me?” The man shrugged, making the long jacket of his sherwani suit sway. “Nothing.”

“I thought so.” In a very smooth, very human move, Dan pulled his gun from its holster on his hip and shot the demon square between the eyes.

Bariel’s head snapped back, blood spraying in a quick explosion behind him. He collapsed to the cement floor of the patio, my sword clamoring out of his hand.

“That’s for screwing with Emma, and the shit you pulled on me on Mount Washington,” Dan said. “Don’t do it again.”

I’d jumped at the gunshot, startled. “What the hell?”

“That won’t kill him,” Jukar said.

Dan didn’t look at either of us. Instead he walked over to Bariel’s unconscious body and grabbed my sword. I tried to will the blade to dissipate, but nothing happened. It was my sword, the solid metal forged in the fires of heaven, molecules from this plane and the next, brought together by my will… at least it was supposed to be. But now it was in Dan’s hand, his will, the will of a nephilim, making it solid and real, making it possible to initiate him into the ranks of illorum, just like Tommy’s sword had done for me.
Dammit.

Dan brought it back and stood beside us. “I know. But it felt good.”

The angel nodded, rolling a shoulder as though he completely understood. “Fair enough.”

“Uh-huh. Listen, no offense, but,” Dan said, looking at me, “will you kill this son of a bitch already, Em?”

“Why would that offend me?” Jukar said, clearly offended.

“I can’t. Not now,” I said.

“Because of Eli?”

“No.”
Maybe
. “Because I’ll lose my power.”

“You won’t need it anymore if you kill him,” Dan said. “Em, you’re this close—
this
close to getting your life back. You’ll be able to hang out with your family and friends without worrying that a demon will attack. There’ll be no more midnight chases across the world, no more angelic powwows in your backyard. You’ll be free from all this. You’ll be normal.”

For the first time since this started a year ago, that word didn’t trigger happy thoughts of sunny days and peaceful nights and uninterrupted sleep. Instead, the sound of it tied my stomach into a cold knot. No more angels hovering in the tree limbs in my backyard, no more trips around the world, no more knowing the truth in a person’s thoughts, no more phone calls to Liam and Amon, no more possibility of ever seeing Eli again.

I pushed the cloud of sorrow from my thoughts and cleared my throat. “You don’t understand. There’s more going on than you realize. I need my powers.”

“Why?” Anger made his tone sharp. “What could possibly be going on that’s more important than getting your life back on track?”

“Look.” I pointed out to the huge baseball stadium and the demons sitting like statues in the pouring rain everywhere I looked. The last of the diehard fans had left, leaving only the loyal demons behind in their seats. There were more of them now, and as I watched even more were blinking in, appearing in empty seats—gathering. “They’re going to start the war. If I kill Jukar, I can’t fight.”

“If you kill him, maybe you can stop the war before it gets started.”

“I’m standing right here,” Jukar said. “I can hear you.”

Dan and I glanced at him and then back to each other.

“Killing him will only take me out of the fight,” I said.

“And my death won’t change the course of events already set in motion,” Jukar added.

“Yeah.” Dan snorted. “Like you’d say anything different.”

The fallen angel shrugged.

“Y’know what? Let me test that theory.” I could tell Dan was fuming. He doubled fisted my sword and raised it to take a swing at Jukar.

I moved without thinking, putting myself between the cop and the fallen angel faster than Dan could track. I grabbed his wrist. “Dan, no. What are you thinking?”

He jerked free. “I’m thinking that if you can’t save yourself from this mess, I will. Jeezus, Emma, what’s happened to you? Used to be this was all you wanted, all you wished for. Now here he is and you’re having second thoughts? You’re protecting him?”

“I’m not having second thoughts.” I shoved Dan’s wrist and he stumbled back a step. My reasons for allowing Jukar to continue sucking air were selfish and I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t kill him. Not yet. Not if there was a chance of finding Eli. “You don’t understand. You can’t. Just give me my sword before you do something stupid like getting yourself marked.”

“He loves you,” Jukar said, making an awkward situation a billion times worse.
Thanks.

“No, he doesn’t,” I said.

“I care about her.” Dan looked me in the eye. “There’s a difference.”

Jukar wasn’t listening to either of us. “He’s passionate, driven by his emotions. I could use that kind of zeal at my side in the coming battles.”

I spun around. “No. He’s still just a normal human and he needs to stay that way.”

Jukar’s sapphire eyes dropped to me. “He was never a normal human.”

“He’s got kids,” I said. “Leave him out of this.”

“None of our children will be left out of this, my dear.” Jukar stepped around me, speaking to Dan directly. “The seraphim have persecuted our children before and they are doing it again. They are hunting nephilim regardless of the status of their power.”

“Because you’ve pushed them to it,” I said. “You’re ordering attacks on illorum, killing magisters, stealing their swords. Did you think they’d just let you get away with it forever?”

“There is much I have…gotten away with,” he said. “My pious brothers are brilliant at turning a blind eye and deaf ear to avoid taking action of any kind.”

“I’m not one of your pious brothers,” I said, remembering why this bastard had to die. “You’re done getting away with ordering the deaths of good people. I’ll make sure of it.”

“We do what we must to protect our children,” he said. “If some perish in battle, such is the nature of war. They die so others might live, so others might love in peace.”

“Love human women, you mean,” Dan said, pulling Jukar’s attention.

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ve got a problem with that.” Dan’s grip tightened on my sword.

“Hmm…yes. Because of Elizal. I would imagine you do.”

Dan’s mouth tensed. “I have a problem with illorum being causalities of your self-indulgent need to screw human women. Especially when someone I care about is an illorum, and people she knows and cares about are targets too.”

“Ah. Clever.” The angel’s face lit with delight. “I do like you, Daniel. Your mind works remarkable feats of logic to appease your pride. Allow me to ease your concern somewhat. Emma Jane, as well as any of our children, need only lay down Michael’s sword and join us to be safe from such aggressions.”

Dan snorted. “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I would,” he said. “It pains me to see any of our children pitted against their fathers. It pains me even more to see our children fight for beings who would rather see them dead, or worse, impotent.”

“The point is
what
they fight for, not for whom,” Dan said.

“Pick up Michael’s sword, or mine. Those are your choices. But make no mistake, children, everyone will soon have to pick a side.”

“He still walks the earth?” Fred’s voice suddenly came from the seats below and we turned to see him perched on one of the seat backs. “I hoped that you had completed your duty, Emma Jane. But I do appreciate your aid in locating this loathsome betrayer.”

Ronny, Fred’s new illorum, popped in a second later, standing on the steps next to his magister’s seat. The kid was getting drenched in the rain. Fred was dry as a bone. “You again? Shit. You gonna let another one get away, babe?”

“Don’t call me ‘babe,’” I said. “And pull up your pants. You look like an idiot who can’t work a belt.”

The wannabe thug shrugged, smirking. But it was movement behind him that caught my eye. Some of the nearest demons had stood to watch us, the rain pooling in the seats around them, drenching their hair and clothes.

I scanned the rest of the stadium—the number of demons had doubled. There were hundreds now, and at the tops of several of the stairs protected by the overhang were what I assumed must be gibborim. They were men and women, teenagers and adults, all holding black swords in their hands. I counted at least fifty. We were so outnumbered.

Jukar tossed his half-empty beer, the glass shattering on the concrete steps and hard seats a few yards away. “Fraciel,” he said, drawing his sword, the blade gleaming like a captured star in his hand. “So it begins. Long time no see. I expected a magister would come to my daughter’s aid, but I’m surprised to see it’s you.”

Fred ignored him, unconcerned, and looked at his sad excuse for an illorum. “Kill the wicked beast, Ronald.”

Ronny bolted like a dog let off his leash, racing up so fast that he cleared the distance to the patio easily.

“Crap.”
I didn’t even think about it. I just spun in front of Jukar, snagging his sword from his hand and bringing it up to block Ronny’s blade. I shoved the kid back, and he tumbled over the seats, falling out of sight between the rows.

My wrist stung with that icy burn the second our swords clashed. I fought hard not to let the pain show on my face. “Don’t be stupid, Fred. Can’t you see this is a setup? Look around. He’s built an army, and now he’s trying to bait you into a fight. He wants you to start the war.”

“He’s been baiting the seraphim for weeks,” Fred said. “With the first magister to die by his command, the truce was broken. Now he will suffer the full wrath of heaven.”

“Not now. Look around, Fred. Hello? All of heaven isn’t here. Don’t let him suck you into a battle you can’t win.”

Ronny pushed up from where he’d landed, rubbing the back of his head. He’d live, for now, but raising my sword against him, a defender of God, had already done its damage. I could feel the lingering ache of my mark. I wouldn’t look. I had bigger things to worry about. If Fred let himself get suckered into a fight with Jukar, I wasn’t sure if any of us would survive it.

“I am not the one he is manipulating.” Fred’s pale eyes glanced at my wrist and I resisted the urge to tuck my hand behind my back, hiding my mark that I was sure had splintered again. “Do you believe he could not have stopped Ronald’s attack if he wished? He wants you to defend him. He wants to separate you from your duty.”

I knew it was true, and I knew it was working, but not for the reason Fred thought. Jukar wasn’t seducing me into seeing things his way. He was using my feelings for Eli to make me want to keep him alive. But even I recognized the difference between keeping him alive and defending him was pretty thin—thin as air.

“How many archangels are there? Did you know that he was one of them?” I asked Fred.

“Archangel?” Dan repeated, eyes wide. “Your biological father’s an archangel? So the stuff you can do that you shouldn’t be able to…?”

“All my offspring have been exceptional,” Jukar said, beaming with pride.

Fred ignored them both and answered me with a shrug. “How many? How many seeds are in a watermelon? How many feathers on a bird? There are as many archangels as Father intended.” For the first time, Fred’s narrow eyes shifted to the fallen angel behind me. “And yes. I sensed what he
once
was when I arrived.”

“But the Council said no archangels had fallen since Lucifer.”

“He is no longer an archangel,” Fred said. “He is Fallen. What this vile creature once was has no bearing on the thing he has become.”

“But he’s just as powerful, or powerful enough…and you sent your shiny, new illorum after him anyway?”

“You see, my daughter?” Jukar leaned close like he’d whisper in my ear but he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “He knows my strength, knows even he is no match for me and yet he freely orders my brother’s child to fight me. These sanctimonious seraphim do not value the lives of our children. You are pawns—cannon fodder to be used and destroyed—doing what they, themselves, are too frightened to do.”