Hellsbane Hereafter (25 page)

I leaned back, finding his lips with mine. The kiss pressed into me, through me, igniting a flood of memories of desires fulfilled, restraint released and love acknowledged. We’d been so happy here, so perfectly normal. We’d have it again. We’d have it all.

“We’ll stay forever,” I said against his mouth.

He laughed, and the low rumble hummed through my body, then he broke the kiss to catch my eyes. “We’ll stay a week. Then it might be better to find a proper home in town rather than an eternity in a hotel.”

“Oh. Right. Okay, a week of bliss in the hotel then forever in the heaven of our own Italian villa. I can live with that.” I kissed him again, and he responded instantly, his lips softening, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, teasing. My heart fluttered, a fast wash of heat spreading through my veins.

This was it. We were finally going to be together—happy. No more war, no more life and death, no more grand sacrifices, no more good and evil. Just us. Forever. Was it really possible? Could we just walk away from everything free and clear with no consequences? I didn’t want to think about it.

He set me on my feet, his hands slipping up to cup my face. One last lingering kiss and he pulled away, staring into my eyes. “We’ll stay, Emma Jane…for as long as we can. For as long as it lasts.”

My chest squeezed, fear like an icy hand around my heart. “Maybe they won’t find us. Amon and Liam dropped off the grid last year when they wanted to. Maybe we can, too.”

His smile trembled at the corners. He fought to hold it, but sorrow hinted in the depths of his eyes. “Amon is a demon, not a fallen angel like me. And Liam was a simple illorum.”

My gaze drifted. “Not the prophesied daughter of a fallen archangel.”

His hands pulled my face back to look at him. His thumbs stroked my cheeks, sending warm tingles rippling over my skin. “We’re here now. And we
will
stay. We
will
be happy. Let’s not worry about tomorrow.”

I forced a smile and nodded, and he pulled me into a kiss. His power flooded over me, hot and erotic, sliding through muscles, stroking over nerves, touching me in places that made my breath catch and my head light.

He drew me close, holding my body flush against his, his excitement pressing a hard line along my belly. I breathed him in, the hot, summery scent of him, his sweet cinnamon taste tingling over my tongue and down my throat. He scooped me into his arms, and in the next instant we were in bed, his long body next to mine, his hands working up under my shirt.

Big palms cupped over my bra, massaging my breasts. I arched my back into his touch, the sensation drawing a moan from deep inside me. Every part of me—mind, body and soul—ached for him, for the mindless bliss of having him inside me. I didn’t want to wait another second.

I pushed against his chest until he gave me the space I needed to slide my shirt up and over my head and toss it to the floor. I worked free of my jeans with his help and shoved them off the edge of the bed then snuggled close again, Eli’s warm, naked flesh an intoxicating sensation next to mine.

His hand caressed my hip, and his fingers slipped under the elastic of my panties, palm cupping the round of my bottom. He jerked my pelvis to him, crushing his hard sex against me.

My breath caught, and I looked up into his eyes to catch his mischievous smile.

“Take the rest off.” Lust made his voice deep and sexy.

God, it felt good to smile. It felt good not to have to worry about anything or anyone. I pulled my knee up, loving the sensation of his coarse leg hair against my skin. I snuggled closer. “You want it off. You take it off.”

I pushed his shoulder, forcing him to his back and rocked up to straddle him. His hands found the latch of my bra at my back. But then his eyes stretched wide and a kind of terror I’d never seen in him flitted across his face. “Eli?”

Someone grabbed my upper arms from behind me and pulled me back so hard and fast I didn’t have time to resist. I landed on my feet, struggling against the hold before I even looked to see who’d grabbed me. I couldn’t break free.

“Be still, woman,” a male voice said over my shoulder.

I wrenched my neck to see the archangel Gabriel. “What the hell?”

“Don’t make me do this, Em,” Dan said.

A scream chocked at the back of my throat. “Dan, no.”

Ham, Dan’s magister, had Eli the way Gabriel had me, except Eli knelt on the floor next to the bed, his arms pulled back so far his elbows nearly touched. Still naked, he leaned forward, head down, and Dan’s blade rested on the back of his neck.

“Please, Dan. Let him go.” My hand went to my throat. I wanted to scream. I managed not to. But just barely. “For me. Please.”

My ex-boyfriend, ex-friend, shook his head. “Can’t. This was the only way we could get your attention.”

“We? You’re okay with this?”

“I volunteered.” He pounded his chest then double fisted his sword again, face etched with righteous determination.

“What?” My jaw dropped. “How could you?”

“How could I?” He snorted. “Damn, that’s a hell of an ego you’ve got. This is bigger than you, Emma. Bigger than your addiction to this…
Fallen
. We’re talking about humanity. How can you? How could anyone with a soul choose them, demons and Fallen, over…over everyone else?”

“It’s not that simple.” I squirmed wanting to get closer, to explain
.
“You don’t understand. You don’t have all the facts.”

“I know enough.” He glared at me, insulted.

I shook my head, struggling against Gabriel’s hold. “No. Please. Listen. You think you know, but they lie. You have to believe me. There’s something going on. They’re using me. They’re using all of us.”

“Woman.” Gabriel’s powerful hands tightened, the pain shooting white-hot through my brain.

“What?” I yelled, pissed as hell. “What the fuck do you want, Gabriel?”

He pulled me back against his chest and leaned down to speak softly into my ear. “Why must we continue to repeat ourselves? Kill the son of perdition, the wicked one. End him. Or the illorum will banish your lover.”

The downy feathers of his voice stroked over my skin—and under it.
Shit.
I didn’t want to like it.
Bastard.
Stubbornness tightened my jaw. “Right. Okay. I’ll get right the hell on that. Now let us go.”

“Let you go so you can go on fornicating with this filth, ignoring our request?” He laughed, but it sounded cruel. “Not this time. This time the Fallen stays with us. Take him, Humastrav.”

“No!” I screamed, but they were already gone. “You bastard. You can’t do this. I’ve been working with Michael. Ask him. And when you do, you can tell him, either you let Eli go, or all of you can kiss my help good-bye.”

Gabriel’s fingers squeezed my arms hard, and I bit my tongue to keep from giving him the satisfaction of crying out in pain.

He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. “Who do you think sent me?” My blood ran cold. “You have twenty-four hours. Kill the boy, or I’ll see to it personally that your Fallen is banished. In fact, if I hear there’s even a possibility that you will defy us again, I’ll take the illorum’s sword and banish him myself.”

I jerked my shoulders, trying to put distance between me and that voice. But this time there was no resistance. The archangel Gabriel was gone. I stumbled forward and fell against the end of the bed before my knees gave out and I sank to the floor.

Since Eli’s fall, I’d known without a doubt there was nothing I wouldn’t do to save him. No line I wouldn’t cross. No sacrifice I wouldn’t make. So why should this time be any different?

It wasn’t. And that was the problem.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I’d run out of time. Every fiber of my body told me killing Abram would be a mistake—a catastrophic mistake. But I still couldn’t explain why, and until I could, there was no way to convince the Council of Seven. As far as they were concerned, it was time to choose—Abram or Eli.

It had to be Eli.

With a simple stretch of my power, I found Abram. He sat at a long table, New Media World Expo printed in bright green and yellow letters across the front. Panelists sat next to him while attendees filled the seats in front of him. The room was packed, and along the back wall, five TV cameras provided a window for millions more.

A ruffle of feathers tickled past my ears an instant before I teleported just inside the doors to the room. Abram’s eyes met mine. Had he seen me coming?

Maybe.
As far as I knew, Jukar had finally triggered his powers. He was the child of a fallen archangel. He’d be at least as powerful as I’d been when Tommy’s sword brought me into this insane life. I wasn’t close enough to know for sure. It didn’t matter. Powers triggered or not, he was still no match for me.

My little brother didn’t look too happy to see me. Couldn’t blame him. If he knew why I had come, he’d be a lot less happy. Where were we, anyway?

While the room’s attention was held by one of the panelists speaking at a podium at the end of Abram’s table, I tiptoed closer to the nearest cameraman. I tapped him on the shoulder so he’d shift his headphones off one ear to hear me. “What is this?”

“Increasing traffic,” he said. “How to make your podcasts, vlogs, and web TV go viral and stuff like that. These guys are the biggest things on the net.”

I remembered the boys at the house saying something about Abram’s vlogs. Were his postings really that popular? Was that how he’d spread his testimony? But hadn’t he already been doing that with all his talk of being visited by angels? Didn’t make sense. I shook my head, focusing. “No. I mean, this whole thing. Is this some sort of conference or something?”

The camera guy looked at me as if I’d just asked him what color money was. He snorted, half smiling and pulled a pamphlet from his back pocket and shoved it at me. “How’d you get in here?”

I took it, already reading. “Teleported.” I walked away. I crossed in front of the closed doors to stand on the other side of the middle aisle.

It was a convention—a big one, by the look of the flyer. We were in New York at the world’s largest conference and trade show for bloggers, podcasters, web-TV, and video-series creators. There were a ton of speakers scheduled along with workshops and panels for people to learn the tricks of the trade. Then, of course, there was the trade show that ran all day for a week during the expo for sponsors and casters to connect and make deals.

I flipped the glossy trifold paper open and closed, looking at the back and front until I was sure I’d seen it all. When I looked up, Abram glared straight at me. I opened my mind to him and allowed his thoughts to enter my consciousness.

“Leave.”
His voice jolted through my head, making me flinch.

Okay, so I was there to kill him, but he didn’t know that. Never mind that I still hadn’t totally built up the resolve to do it.
“Why so hostile?”

“You can’t stop it.”
His voice rumbled hot and angry through my mind.
“This is my destiny. Stay out of it.”

“What are you talking about?”
He was sure his destiny was to die. He thought it would happen here? How? Death by overexposure? I glanced at the cameras next to me and across the aisle—at the dozen or so handheld cameras, cell phones, and recorders in audience. And then I noticed something else.

Angels.

Two seraphim sat in the last row toward the far corner. They were squeezed in between a three-hundred-pound, Unabomber-looking dude and a long-haired hipster. I didn’t recognize the angels, but judging by their long, day-glow hair—reflector yellow and neon blue, respectively—and their white Gi karate outfits, they were new to Earth. Here for the war and nothing else. Of course none of the conference-goers gave the pair a second glance.

Were the seraphim here to make sure I killed Abram? Would they report back to Gabriel? I already knew the answer.
Crap.

“I’m going to die today. Here. In front of everyone,”
Abram said.
“Then I will rise again.”

“What?”

“Like my sister did.”
He sounded eager.
“Any human who saw you stabbed at the bar knew you must’ve died from the wound. You did die, Emma.”

“No.”
I shook my head, frustrated.
“I mean, I did die, sort of. But you don’t understand. Jukar…changed me. I can’t be killed as easily as most humans.”

“I know.”
It was almost like he was bragging, so proud he knew everything.
“Our father mixed your blood with the blood and swords of a hundred seraphim. You’re more angel now than human. You can only be killed with an angelic blade. Even angel powers won’t work on you.”

My thoughts stuttered, shame over what had been done to me, what I’d allowed to happen, warming my face.
“How did you know?”

“Because he did the same to me.”
Abram blinked slowly, watching me as his words sank in.
“Except I’m not meant to be a warrior or protector. I’m a leader. And a leader needs heart. A hundred seraphim hearts to be specific.”

“Dear God…”
Shock stabbed through my head, leaving me unable to accept the look of pride lighting my half brother’s eyes. He looked so pleased with himself, so smug I could kill him, but I wouldn’t.
“I told you I wouldn’t let you die, Abram. Whatever your plan is, it’s not going to happen. I’ll do my level best to stop it.”

His brow creased again, a dark glower settling across his face.
“Stay. Out. Of. It.”

“Please welcome Abram Marino, owner of The Angel Oracle vlog.” My gaze swung back to the speaker at the podium just as the room erupted in applause.

Abram’s scowl vanished, replaced by a practiced, handsome smile. He pushed to his feet and sidestepped his way behind the other panelists on the narrow stage toward the podium. Movement in the front row next to the wall stole my attention.

A Fallen, looking like any other expo attendee—leather jacket, button dress shirt, and dark slacks—stood. The only obvious difference between him and nearly every other person in the room was the gleaming angelic sword in his hand.

And then another Fallen, seated mid-room, stood. And another two seats over from him, and another across the aisle but one row back. Each one had drawn his sword and slowly, human slow, they moved toward the center aisle.

Were they getting closer to protect Jukar’s son? Were they told to continue protecting him the same way I was? I glanced at the seraphim. They hadn’t moved. There were no illorum, no magisters, no other seraphim. Other than myself, I couldn’t see any danger to Abram at all.

Abram’s green eyes landed on the fallen angels making their way toward him. He swallowed hard, his smile shaking as if he were suddenly afraid.

He lifted his chin. “The world is changing. Not just technologically, but the planet itself. Humans have made great strides intellectually, but it’s not enough. We need to adapt to the growing pains of our planet if we want to survive as a species.”

The room was as silent as a crypt. All eyes transfixed on Abram, though his gaze followed the slow coming of the Fallen toward him. He swallowed hard again, mustering his courage.

He mopped his brow with the back of his hand, sweat beading from under his wavy red bangs. “In the past, our sedate evolution had been enough to outpace the changes of our world. But soon the planet’s development will eclipse our own, and even our advanced technology won’t be enough to protect us and sustain our existence.”

Facts clicked into place as I listened. Everything Abram said was being streamed to the internet for the world to access. It would be recorded, uploaded, emailed, tweeted, posted, shared, and re-shared. His words would be blogged and vlogged and podcasted. Within minutes of the words leaving his lips, the world would hear them. They would
see
him.

The nearest Fallen stepped onto the stage, waiting a sword’s length away, the other three standing sentry in front of the podium, their backs to Abram. Finally a low mumble of concern rippled over the crowd. It wasn’t that they hadn’t noticed the men with swords, but more that since Abram didn’t mention them, everyone assumed they were part of the presentation.

I knew they weren’t.

“We must evolve quickly. The time is upon us,” Abram said, his back stiff. “We must evolve now or be left to fade into extinction like the dinosaurs before us. Now there is a way, and the angels have shown me how. They have been seeding humanity for eons, preparing a chosen few to help speed us to fruition. With the blending of the angelic blood in future generations, humanity will have the strength to survive and grow ever closer to perfecting God’s design. I know it’s a frightening step. So let me lead the way.”

My destiny was to protect him—maybe—who knew for sure? But I’d been behaving as if it was since the day I knew Abram existed. How many times had I tried to convince the seraphim not to harm Abram? How many times had I refused to take his life, and then stopped any illorum they’d sent in my place? If that was my destiny, I’d fulfilled it. Now Abram should be able to fulfill his.

Suddenly I understood. The Fallen weren’t there to protect Abram. They were there to kill him.

“I am the angel oracle, and through their love, life everlasting is possible. Not just spiritually, but physically.”

He dropped his hands to his sides, turned his face toward the ceiling, stretching his neck. “Behold.”

Before the Fallen at his side could raise his sword I was there, standing between Abram and his executioner. I was faster, stronger, and way more determined.

The Fallen’s sword sailed toward Abram’s neck, and met the metal of my blade instead with a bone-rattling crack. Like they’d been waiting for it, the crowd exploded in a cacophony of screams, people racing toward the doors, pushing and shoving for escape.

Abram’s attacker swung again, but this time he swung at me. I blocked, seeing each of his moves a half second before he made them. I could sense the shift in his weight, the roll of muscle, his change in balance. Every move was telegraphed by his body before he made it, and the instant he left a hole in his advance, I attacked, taking his head in one clean swing.

I turned my back on the burst of light and the pull of his spirit being sucked back to the divine ether. The three remaining Fallen were already advancing. They moved on me at once, and I shifted to the corner, forcing them to take turns striking at me. One by one I took their lives, sending each to the body of their Father, never to return.

When the air settled from the last angelic death, debris slowly floating to the floor, I took stock of what was left. Chairs lay in disarray, overturned and broken. Papers, notebooks, and abandoned convention swag bags were strewn everywhere.

At the back of the room, cameras, left where they stood, still recorded everything. In front of them sat the two seraphim exactly where I’d first seen them.

The yellow-haired seraphim stood first, glancing at those humming cameras. The nearest one suddenly sparked and smoked, and like a run of dominos, the next one went and the next and the next, right down the line from one wall to the next.

The blue-haired angel stood, his long hands clasped in front of him, his narrow face looking all the more alien because of the somber frown. They stared at me with those creepy white eyes until I couldn’t take the silence.

“He’s not human. Not anymore. Jukar changed him. He’s more angel now than human.” I stepped closer, needing them to understand. “If I’d let them strike him down, everyone would think they’d killed him. He’d seem dead, but he’d heal like I did. Humanity would see him as some sort of Messiah rising from the dead. Whatever else happens, letting him be killed would be so much worse. You have to see that.”

Without a word, or even so much as batting an eye, the yellow-haired seraph vanished.

“Wait. What about Eli? You can’t banish him now.” My heart hammered so loud I could hardly think. “Are you going to let him go?”

The blue-haired angel tilted his head, his white eyes studying me.

“I did what I had to. You know that. You can tell Gabriel. Please. Tell him to let Eli go,” I said, but the angel only turned his back, took a step, and vanished.

“Hey! No. It’s not fair. I didn’t have a choice,” I yelled into the empty room. But I knew it was too late. It didn’t matter if I had a good reason, if I’d singlehandedly saved humanity from a false Messiah. I disobeyed the Council, and the Council of Seven was all about obedience.

My brain felt three sizes too big, pressing against the inside of my skull. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t remember how. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be real. But Gabriel had promised to banish Eli himself if I even hinted I might defy them. There was no chance he wouldn’t stay true to his word. The archangel hated me. They’d all believed I was a traitor now.

“Emma Jane.” I spun toward the stage to see Eli on his knees, Gabriel standing behind him, gleaming sword drawn.

“Eli.” My weight shifted, instinct urging me to go to him, but Gabriel tensed.

“Do not interfere,” the archangel said. “Your defiance warrants no indulgence from us. Stay where you are, or he goes to the abyss without another word.”

“Listen to me, Emma Jane,” Eli hurried to say as though he might not get the chance to finish. “You made the right choice. They know this, although they are loathe to admit it. Be patient.” Gabriel raised his sword to his shoulder, his white eyes fixed on the back of Eli’s neck. “Be loyal. Be good. And know that I regret nothing,” Eli said as Gabriel’s sword began its hard swing toward him. “I love—”

They were gone the instant the archangel’s sword contacted Eli’s flesh. My heart stopped. An eternity passed, no sound, no air, and my mind stuck, holding on to that single instant, refusing to allow the next moment to come. If it came, if the clock ticked the next second, it would be too late. Eli would be gone, locked in the abyss, forever changed. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to.