Heaven and Hellsbane (26 page)

An instant later I stood behind him just as he bent over her, Jukar’s glistening, black sword balanced in his up turned palms. “Take it. Defend yourself. It’s your only way out,” he told her. “They’re killing everyone.”

My only thought was to get that damn sword out of her reach and just as she leaned forward to take it, I snagged my father’s sword from Bariel’s hands.

He turned, eyes wide, mouth agape, utterly surprised. He hadn’t sensed me the way most demons can sense illorum. Why? I didn’t know, couldn’t worry about it. The surprise cost him. Lightning fast I swung my sword backhand, cutting him through the neck. The old demon staggered back, blinking fast.

“Too late,” he said in a breathy whisper. “The war’s begun.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head and then his head lolled back, tilting farther and farther until it fell off his shoulders.

Bariel had been an old demon, free from the abyss longer than some seraphim had existed. But just like every demon before him, his body dropped to the hard concrete stairs and seconds later all that was left was smoldering goo, raindrops sizzling against it.

My gaze flicked to the woman, tucked into a ball, sobbing. She looked up at me. “Go,” I said. “Run. And don’t touch any swords.”

She ran.

My side was getting worse, the burn spreading into my belly. I turned around, scanning the battlefield I’d been to a gazillion times to watch ballgames. The tide was turning. Everywhere I looked, illorum and their magisters were zeroing in on the gibborim wielding angelic swords. One by one, they were killed and the swords retrieved, but for too many seraphim it was already too late.

For no good reason I glanced up at the Bedford Company’s luxury box. Fred was still battling Jukar—wearing him down, beating him. I hadn’t thought it was possible. Jukar was an archangel, far more powerful than Fred. And yet, just when it seemed Fred would strike a killing blow, Jukar would teleport to the other side of the patio and the fight would resume with Fred following him easily.

It seemed just a matter of time before Jukar would make a mistake—react a fraction too slow, move an instant too late, and Fred’s sword would take his head. But then, as though he sensed me watching, the archangel’s gaze flicked my way.

He smiled, standing taller, and swatted Fred’s sword aside with his own as effortlessly as a father would a toddler. He jabbed his hand out, poking a finger against Fred’s forehead, like pressing a pause button.

The once mighty envoy for The Council of Seven went statue still, frozen on the spot. Faster than I could see, faster than I could think, Jukar was suddenly behind him and he turned the angel to face me.

Fred’s eyes were wide, a mix of anger and fear molding his face. He knew what was happening and was helpless to stop it.

“Jukar, no,” I said.

But in the blink of an eye, the fallen archangel swung his sword, slicing through the magister’s neck, igniting a brilliant flash of light…and Fred was gone.

I raced toward him, folding time and space, crossing the stadium an instant after I’d decided to move. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I couldn’t save Fred. I just knew I had to do something. A heartbeat after the flash of light was gone, an instant after I met my father’s smiling eyes staring out at me. I was standing where Fred had been.

But I was standing there alone.

Chapter Twenty-Five

When the last of the demons and gibborim on the field had been killed, and all the Fallen had been banished or escaped, the seraphim, one by one, shot back into the thick clouds, each carrying a lifeless nephilim body until all evidence of the battle was gone. Three minutes later, the sky cleared and the sun warmed the chilly air. I didn’t know what they would do with the bodies, but I trusted they’d be cared for properly.

It’s true what they say. You don’t really know how much you’ll miss something until it’s gone. I missed having a magister or a fellow illorum or even a friend nearby. Especially when I had to drive home alone with at least one broken rib, deep gashes on my side, and brimstone eating away my insides. Still, I counted myself lucky to have walked away at all.

I’d caught a glimpse of Dan, Nenita, and Ham talking together. Nenita gave me a thumbs-up from across the park, before she and the two men vanished. At least I knew they were okay.

Yeah, it was my decision, my fault that I was alone, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I saw a car sitting in front of my house before I pulled into my driveway. As far as I could remember, I didn’t know anyone who drove a Mercedes SLS AMG Coupe. I liked the sleek, silver color though.
Expensive.

Then my stomach sank. I only knew one person—one fallen angel—with that kind of money.
Jukar.

There were still puddles in my driveway. I tried to aim for a dry spot when I parked and yanked on the emergency brake in front of my garage door. Anger already simmered under my collar. I was tired, hurt, and still in shock after watching my angelic father kill a magister, a seraph, the angel who’d spent the last few days at my side and snooping around in my head, right in front of me.

It’s not like Fred and I were buddies, hanging out in front of the TV, eating popcorn, and watching old
Serenity
reruns. But he didn’t deserve to be taken out like that. I’d sworn to myself that if I were ever close enough to my bastard father again, I’d end him…or die trying. I just didn’t count on the opportunity arising so soon.
Careful what you wish for.

I shoved open the door of my Jeep and kind of fell out, holding my side. My free hand caught the edge of the door and kept me on my feet while I took a few strength-building breaths, trying to swallow the pain. I could feel the claw marks through my ripped blouse and knew the wounds had healed over, but there was a lot of brimstone caught under the skin, and it bubbled beneath the new flesh.

There was holy water inside the house. I’d learned to keep some handy, like Band-Aids and peroxide. But no way was I letting the fallen archangel past the threshold. No. I’d deal with him first and then go inside and chug some holy water.

Mustering every last bit of energy I had, I stiffened my back, holding my head high, and started walking like I’d just gotten twelve hours of sleep and a handful of magic feel-better pills.

I was halfway down the driveway, heading for the sporty car on the street, when both its doors opened. “Bloody hell, lass, you look like total shit.”

“Liam.” I exhaled and almost dropped to my knees. The redhead was at my side in a flash, catching me. “You’re such a sweet talker.”

“That’s what I keep telling him,” Amon said, not far behind. He’d gotten out of the driver’s side.

“Whose car?”

“Mine,” the sexy, sandy-blond demon said. “Won it in a spontaneous giveaway at the dealership.”

“Aye. And by that he means the fool of a salesmen gave him the bloody car for being pretty.”

“Oh. Um, congratulations?” I said.

“I owe it all to clean living,” Amon said. The man could wear snug, muscle shirts and tight jeans like nobody’s business. He peeked under the tattered remains of my blouse. “Looks like you could use some holy water. I’m fresh out. Doesn’t set well with my kind. Y’know. You have any inside?”

I nodded, leaning more and more on Liam’s shoulder. “C’mon in.”

Liam and I hobbled inside, and Amon ran ahead to fetch the holy water from the fridge. The little Irishman helped me to my gram’s Victorian sofa in the waiting room/front parlor of my house. I cringed, thinking how my wet clothes would stain the cushions, and then decided I didn’t care enough to hobble to another room.

“Where were you today?” I asked him.

“Keeping my arse, and Amon’s, as far from that buggered battle of bloated egos as I could.”

“Why?”

“Conflict of interest,” he said.

“Oh.”

“Aye, Amon’s been dodging bloody demons and gibborim everywhere we go,” he said. “The bastards have been pressuring him to join up. Can you imagine if we’d gone to that blasted place today?”

“They would’ve forced you to fight each other,” I said, remembering the draw of that horn urging the demon and gibborim to battle.

“Aye.” His gaze drifted, and I knew he was imagining it. “And after that bloomin’ mess today they’ve only doubled their efforts. We’re at war, don’cha know. And look at us, me and my Amon, caught on opposite feckin’ sides. Brilliant.”

“It was bad, Liam. I’m glad you stayed away,” I said, then hissed when I tried to settle a little more on the couch.

“We won, though, no?” he asked.

“Nobody won,” I said. “We got a lot of the angelic swords back, but now that the truce is broken, the Fallen don’t have to arm their gibborim with angelic swords to do their fighting. They’ll do it themselves. Those Fallen jerks were the first to take off. When they saw they were losing, they just left the demons and gibborim to be slaughtered.”

“And the seraphim were happy to do it, no doubt,” Liam said.

“They killed everyone who didn’t have the good sense to run.” My exhale was shaky, like I was going to cry. The sudden emotion surprised me. “Liam, there were so many who didn’t know to run—so many who died. The angels were merciless.”

“Aye. War is a heartless affair and the seraphim were born to fight. It’ll be different this time though,” Liam said.

“What do you mean?”

“There’ll be no front line, no safe ground like it was the first time ’round. The first war in heaven was in the other realm. Now that the Fallen have taken up here on earth, they’ll bring the fight to the streets, where people live and work—there’ll be no avoidin’ it,” Liam said. “Today was just the beginning.”

Amon came gliding in from the kitchen, a water bottle in his hand. His long, graceful strides carried him quickly across the room. “This one has a cross drawn on it. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume it’s not really Aquafina.”

“Yeah. I like my holy water cold.” I grimaced, sitting straighter to accept the bottle, and I took a swig. “That’s not weird, right?”

Amon shrugged and looked at Liam. The Irish illorum shook his head, and they both looked back at me.

“Right.” I swallowed another mouthful, already feeling the cool, soothing relief spreading through my stomach—washing over the muscles in my side.

“Where’s Dan?” Liam asked.

I rolled a shoulder. “His place, I guess. He knows about Eli. Said he always knew there was more there than I was willing to admit. He’s a good guy—a smart man to have dumped me when he did. He deserves better.”

“So do you,” Amon said. “You deserve better than a memory that’s more torture than comfort.”

“Amon,” Liam said, chastising him, then looked back to me. “About Eli. My condolences.”

“He’s not dead,” I said.

“No. Not yet. Not that I’ve heard,” Amon said. “In fact, I haven’t heard much at all. If he’s contacted anyone they’re not talking.”

“I know somethin’ about him,” Liam said.

“What?” I stiffened, the holy water working fast to neutralize the brimstone and heal my wounds. “Have you heard from him? Is he okay? Where is he?”

Liam shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s nothin’ like that. I got a visit from Michael a few weeks back. Wanted to talk about you and yer boy. Said when the time came I should tell ya, there’s a way to save him. Said you can pay the penance for your and Eli’s sin by cluein’em in on the goings on in yer father’s camp during the war.”

“Spy? Seriously?”

“Aye. Said the Fallen would be trustin’ ya and no one else would be gettin’ as close to that wicked archangel as you,” he said. “Puts ya in a powerful good spot for them.”

“And if I do? If I spy for them, they’ll what, let Eli back into heaven?” I snorted. It sounded too impossible to even say aloud.

“That’s what he said.”

“Oh my gaw… Wait, when did Michael come to you?”

“Three…four weeks back,” he said.

“Before Eli fell? So he knew. He knew we’d…he knew everything and he just let it happen.”
Why?
Had Michael been respecting free will, or planning a strategy for the coming war? My stomach twisted. I was gonna be sick.

“Seraphim are experts at foreseeing a series of events and taking advantage of the fallout,” Amon said. “The Council, even more than the rest. There was one other thing though. Said I should tell you if you decide to take’im up on the offer to keep the terms to yourself. Eli can’t know. No one can or the deal’s off.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know.”

“But he told you.”

“Aye. He did. But then he likely knows I’m more neutral than most,” the fuzzy-haired illorum said.

I sighed and cupped my forehead. “It gives me a headache just to think about it. Nothing makes sense. I mean, who really started the war? My father, when he sent his gibborim after the magisters, or Michael when he figured out what was coming and did nothing about it?” I sighed. My side still ached and after the battle I felt like I hadn’t slept in weeks. “I’m so tired of all of this—angels, demons, nephilim. I’ve had enough for one day. I’ve had enough for one lifetime.”

“Come, Liam,” Amon said. “She needs her rest.”

“Aye. Don’t we all?” He stood. “You have me number. Call. We’ll be here in a flash.”

“Thanks, guys.” They turned to leave, but then I had a thought. “Amon, if you hear from Eli…anything…”

He smiled. “I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you.”

Amon’s smile brightened and Liam gave me a wink. An instant later they were gone.

I hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before, but my clothes were wet all the way down to my socks. Fighting off demons and fallen angels was one thing, but sloshy socks would send me over the edge.

When I was halfway up the stairs to my room, the engine of Amon’s Mercedes revved and tires squealed as he shot off from the curb. I glanced over my shoulder through the front door window, but they were already gone.

Liam and Amon had become a comfort I hadn’t expected. They understood—at least better than most—the torment of loving someone they shouldn’t, but being helpless to stop. They were a comfort that Eli didn’t have.

My throat tightened, and tears were suddenly there in my eyes. Just the thought of Eli sent a sharp stab through my chest. I missed him like I’d miss air. And knowing he was alone out there in the world, closing himself off from everyone—anyone—who might help him cope, made the pain all the worse. What had I done to him?

We both suffered for our decision, but his punishment was so much worse. He didn’t deserve this. As much as I loved him, wanted to be with him, I couldn’t let him go on paying such a lonely, agonizing price.

There was a way I could save him, and I didn’t care that Michael had used his position to foresee my inevitable need for his help in saving Eli. I’d do whatever he wanted. If it meant Eli would be forgiven and he could return home where he belonged, then I’d do it.

The decision was easy. Eli was lost to me either way. Whether he spent the rest of my lifetime and countless more hiding from his pain alone, or he spent it in heaven with his brothers, the result was the same. He was gone. At least by helping the Council I could take comfort in knowing Eli would be at peace.

I turned the corner at the top of the stairs and pushed open the door to my bedroom. Something moved and my gaze shot across the room.

“Eli.” I couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to for fear it was just an illusion and he’d vanish like a ghost. Heat prickled over my mark. I didn’t care. I didn’t even flinch.

He stood frozen, sword in his hand, the hem of his long, tan duster coming to rest around his calves. He looked good. His hair was a little mussed, and he had the beginnings of stubble along his jaw. His eyes were no darker than they’d been the last time I’d seen him, but it was still a shock to see the deeper blue.

“I…I was told you remember,” he said, his voice raw as if he had been screaming for hours…or days. “I was told that your lineage made you resistant to Fraciel’s attempts to erase the memory of me.”

“That’s right.” I stepped closer and Eli tensed. I froze again. “I mean, I guess that’s why I remember everything. Eli, I’m not going to hurt you. I couldn’t. Please, you have to trust me.”

His shoulders relaxed, dropping a fraction of an inch, and he looked away. “Damn it to hell. Will this punishment never cease? How much more damage has my weakness caused you? I’m so sorry, Emma Jane. Had I the power to clear your mind and heart of me, I would. But if Fraciel couldn’t manage it…”

“No, Eli, it’s okay. I want to remember,” I said, taking another tentative step toward him. He didn’t move this time. “I’m glad it didn’t stick. I wouldn’t be able to help you if I didn’t remember.”

“Help me?” His brows creased low over his eyes. “There is no help for me. There is only your salvation—your redemption. My spirit is lost, Emma Jane.”

“No. It’s not,” I said, wanting to tell him about Michael’s offer, give him hope, but knew I couldn’t.

“I know about the deal you made with Jukar,” he said, his face a handsome mask of disapproval. “I came here to tell you that you’re a fool.”

“Oh.” I blinked.
Ouch.

“You’re making deals with the devil for that which we have no business wanting,” he said. “And, if not for the powers afforded you through your father, we could never achieve. I have already paid the price for our love. I will not have you suffer punishment as well. Such a thing—defying the Council, defying God—will cost you Emma Jane. It may cost you your soul.”