Last Rite (7 page)

There’s a soft knock, then Gabe’s voice floats through the door. “Frannie? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I lie. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

When I stand and stare into the mirror, I hardly recognize myself—drawn features and purple hollows circling my sunken, haunted eyes. A month of being scared to close your eyes will do that to a person, I guess. I gag myself on my toothbrush before heading back to the living room.

Gabe has turned off the light, and, in the pale moonlight slanting through the open window, I see him stretched out on his back on the couch. He holds an arm out to me.

I move across the room to him, and he grasps my hand and squeezes gently. “You okay?” The concern in his voice pulls at my heart.

“I will be.” I drop my robe on the floor and crawl over him, curling up between the back of the couch and his body. I wrap my arm around his chest and let his peace wash over me. He’s really turned it on, for my benefit, I’m sure, ’cause in only a few minutes I feel calm and start to drift off.

GABE

If there’s Heaven on Earth, this is it. I kiss the top of Frannie’s head, where she lays curled against me on the sofa. Her scent fills my nose: Ivory soap, the vanilla of her shampoo, and something spicy that’s uniquely Frannie. I can’t help shooting a glance at the used-to-be demon’s door as a shudder works through me. A smile pulls at my mouth knowing this is the one thing she’ll always come to me for. The one thing he’ll never be able to give her.

Her breathing is shallow and irregular as she twitches in my arms. Reliving some horrific part of her recent past in her dreams, no doubt.

A past that I should have been able to protect her from.

The thought cuts like a blade. Her whole world has been turned upside down. I want to blame Luc—everything was fine until he showed up in Haden—but, deep down, I know it’s all on me.

I told her I’d always be here for her. I wasn’t. I wasn’t strong enough to watch while she and Luc grew closer. So I took the easy road.

I abandoned her.

I made up all kinds of lame excuses to make myself feel okay about leaving, but at the end of the day, Taylor’s death, Luc’s betrayal, Matt’s fall—I could have stopped all of it if I’d been there and paying attention.

My heart pounds in my chest. I feel it crash against my ribs, wrenching my entire body with each unrelenting beat. And I savor it.

Because I’ve never had a heart before.

I force myself to loosen my grip on Frannie before I wake her and twist a strand of sandy-blond hair in my fingers. Moonlight streams through the window and lights Frannie’s pale face. I stare at that small, vulnerable face for an eternity. How any Earthly creature can be so beautiful is beyond me.

I lie back on the sofa, concentrating on the feel of the rhythmic beat of my heart, and imagine what it would be like to let the process continue—to let Frannie change me completely.

I’m a Seraph. A Dominion. One of the Second Sphere. I was never of the Earth, so if I were to lose my wings, I’ve always known I couldn’t return to it. I’d belong to Lucifer—to Hell.

My new heart throbs as I think back on the night I almost lost my wings. I didn’t realize until after, as I was standing in her hall struggling for breath that I’d never needed before, that I was changing. I know now that it had started long before that. And with the physical changes came others. Things I’d never experienced before.

Like Earthly desire.

I’ve always loved, but I’ve never
needed
. Feelings of yearning, craving …
desire
are uniquely human—something I didn’t even have the framework to begin to understand before. Needing something so much you’d die for it … I never would have thought it possible until I felt it for myself.

But I would have.

That night I let myself go and nearly gave in to my desire. A huge part of me wanted that more than anything—to trade everything for one night with her. But it would have been just that. One night. After I’d lost my wings, I’d be useless to her.

She needs a protector, not a lover.

I’m going to have to stop this—sooner rather than later. She has to stop wanting me.

I stare into the darkness and try to think of what to say. I can’t lie and tell her I don’t want her, but I
can
say something that would embarrass her … or hurt her.

We’d all be better off if she hated me.

I realize I’m squeezing Frannie too tightly again when a wounded moan rolls up from her core and she jerks in my arms. I loosen my grip and drown her in peace. I want to take away all her pain. The only way I know to do that is by softening it some, so the edges don’t cut so deep.

Her eyes flutter open and when she lifts her head and looks up at me, they’re tortured. “It’s never gonna end.” It’s not a question. Her voice is tired, defeated.

I inhale, slow and deep. Also something new for me. “It
is
going to end, and you need to be ready.”

A shadow passes over her face and she nods. Her gaze shifts to Luc’s door then back. “What if Luc turns back into a demon?”

The pain in her expression is unmistakable. She knows the only way that will happen is if she doesn’t want him. But she’ll always want him. Deep in my new heart, I know this to be true. Frannie will always love Luc. And he will always love her. At the thought, some deep, aching physical need works its way through me. I can’t deny thinking about what might have happened between us if Luc was never in the picture. But the cold, hard truth is that Luc’s leaving is impossible. He and Frannie are bound together in ways that I can’t begin to comprehend. If Hell gets their hands on him, he’ll be able to lead them to her. We need to keep him close. Which means Frannie needs to keep him mortal.

Which also means I need to stay out of the way.

“He’d be a risk. My Shield would still protect him as long as he didn’t draw on his infernal power. But that might be a challenge for him.”

“So, if he starts turning back…?” She levels her devastating gaze at me, and I almost can’t answer.

“He’d be a liability. They’d most likely be able to find him … us.”

She throws a concerned glance at his door.

I draw a deep breath to firm up my resolve. She can never be mine. I’ve accepted that. But she needs someone in her life who can support her, who understands what she is—what’s at stake. No mortal boy could ever fill that roll. “You and Luc belong together, Frannie. You need each other.”

She sighs and settles deeper into the sofa, resting her hand on my chest. My heart hammers out its need for her, like an SOS, and I know she can feel it. A cold sweat breaks across my forehead and my palms—one more new and not so pleasant sensation.

What the Hell is wrong with me? I laughed at Luc when he complained about teenage hormones. Guess the last laugh is on me.

I need a cold shower.

Forcing my thoughts from my body’s reaction to having her next to me, I give myself a mental swift kick. “Go back to sleep, Frannie. You need to get some rest.” I stroke my index and middle fingers over her eyelids and they close, but a smile teases the edges of her mouth, and I have the sudden overwhelming need to kiss her.

“Am I allowed to dream about you?”

The part of that sentence she leaves unspoken is, “instead of Taylor,” but I groan internally, wishing she meant something else. “As long as you keep it PG.”

Her eyes open and she laughs. It’s the first time I’ve heard that sound in weeks. My heart lifts. “Sleep.”

She closes her eyes again and settles into my arms, and I flood her with peace as she dozes off, hoping to keep the dreams at bay.

For hours, I watch her breathe, praying for a better plan—one that guarantees her safety. But still nothing.

She stirs in my arms. My lips brush her cheek and I chastise myself. I have to stop this. She can never be mine.

Ever.

But still, as much as this is my own personal Hell … it’s also Heaven.

I lie perfectly still and listen to her breathe. Dawn breaks over the ocean and I roll onto my side to shade Frannie’s eyes from the light of a new day streaking through the windows, hoping to give her a few more minutes’ peace. She nestles her face into my neck, and I’m so lost in her that I jump when I realize the sound I just heard wasn’t a seagull, but the creaking of door hinges.

5

Penance

FRANNIE

I jerk awake from the first real sleep I’ve had in weeks. I open my eyes and find myself lying on the couch wrapped around Gabe, my head on his shoulder—drooling on his shirt, actually—my legs entwined in his and my arms in a death grip around his neck. My robe is on the floor and my T-shirt is hiked up around my waist. I tug it down over my underwear, and when I look up I find a grin on Gabe’s face, directed at Luc.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I say, unwinding my limbs from Gabe’s and sitting up. Which, considering the puddle of drool on Gabe’s shirt, must sound like a total lie.

Luc stands in his bedroom door wearing black cotton boxer briefs and nothing else. There are pillow creases on his cheek and his black hair is sticking up every which way. He rubs his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, as if he thinks he’ll see something different when he stops.

A knife carves its way through my heart. After yesterday, I don’t even know what to say. He as much as told Gabe he was done with me.

Whatever’s left is yours.

“Chill. She’s just using me for my body.” Gabe’s face explodes into a grin and the glare blinds me.

I smack him again, this time on the thigh as he swings around and sits next to me on the edge of the couch, still in his T-shirt and jeans. “I
am
using you.”

“And I’m totally cool with that.”

Luc stares at us in silence as I shrug into my bathrobe, then turns and walks back into his room, closing the door behind him.

I drop to the couch, my aching head in my hands. I’m so confused.

Once again, my thoughts have given me away. “Sorry,” Gabe says, leaning his shoulder into mine. “I can’t resist busting his chops.”

I tug at my hair and stare at my toes. “I just wish I knew what I was supposed to do. Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

He sighs deeply, then his hand is on my back, over my heart. “Because your situation is complicated.”

My heart feels as heavy as lead in my chest as I stand and drag myself to my room. Just as I reach my door, Luc steps back out into the family room, now in a black T-shirt and faded jeans, and points to the kitchen. “I’m cooking. Anyone else want an omelet?” he says, his tone totally neutral, as if everything was business as usual.

I just stand there for a second, working on breathing, ’cause what wants to burst out of my mouth has nothing to do with omelets. When I finally think I can speak without saying something desperate, I say, “ Yeah … ’kay. I’ll be out in a sec.”

I slip through the door, closing it behind me, and just stand at the mirror, staring.

What am I doing?

I squeeze my eyes closed and breathe. I have to figure this out. I want Luc close, but I want him safe, and the two just don’t go together.

Finally, I grab whatever’s on top in my dresser and throw it on. It turns out to be a green cami top and cutoff shorts.

When I step through my door, there’s already an omelet on a plate, sitting on the table.

“Eat,” Luc says, gesturing to the table with his elbow as he flips another omelet in the skillet.

I slide into the seat and Gabe slips a steaming mug of black coffee onto the table in front of me. I lift it to my face and inhale. “Mmm…” I look up at him as he sits in the chair next to me. “A godsend.”

He arches a platinum brow and quirks an amused smile. “I am.”

I smirk at him. “I was talking about the coffee.”

A minute later, Luc is at the table with another plate. But just as he sits, there’s a knock at the door.

Gabe slides out of his chair and moves to the door. When he pulls it open, Faith is standing there. She’s traded her cutoff shorts and bikini top from yesterday for black shorts and blue sports bra, but she’s still barefoot.

“I was heading out for a run,” she says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But I wanted to bring this by first.” She holds up a shoebox with a blue ribbon around it. “A housewarming gift.”

“Entrez,” Gabe says, stepping aside to let her pass.

Faith steps through the door and walks over to us at the table, still holding the box. I take it from her. “Thanks. You didn’t need to get us anything.”

She shrugs. “It’s just something I made. No big deal.”

I untie the ribbon, pull the lid off the box, and gingerly lift out a small sculpture of driftwood, shells, and sea glass. An angel, complete with halo and wings. “This is … beautiful.” My gaze slides past Faith to Gabe.

“Thanks. I do sea art. I make a ton selling this stuff to the tourists.”

Gabe pulls out a chair for Faith and she settles into it.

I admire the piece, turning it gently from side to side. “I’m sure.” I lift it to show the guys, then push my chair back and stand, looking around the room for someplace to put it. I finally settle on an end table near the window and place it next to the lamp there. Immediately, tiny flecks of light refracting through the sea glass color the room like a rainbow.

“That’s the perfect spot,” Faith says with a smile.

I nod and head back to the kitchen, where Luc is already pouring beaten eggs into the skillet. I pull a plate out of the cupboard. “Have some breakfast. You’ll love Luc’s omelets.”

“Only if you have extra,” Faith answers with a glance at Luc.

He holds up the cutting board with chopped tomatoes and peppers. “Extra,” he says. He smiles at her and my heart pinches. “It’ll just take a second.”

Gabe pulls a mug out of the cupboard. “Coffee?” he asks Faith, holding it up.