Sinners & Sorcerers: Four Urban Fantasy Thrillers (84 page)

“So what now?” she finally asked. “We usher in an era of peace and beauty and holiness to Earth? An era with no demons or evil?”

Michael sighed. He stared into the sea, and was silent for so long, that Bat El thought he would not respond. He looked so much like his brother to her. When he finally spoke, his voice was so low, she had to lean toward him to hear. “Do you really believe that, Bat El?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Of course I do. That’s what we always fought for, for twenty-seven years here on Earth, for thousands of years since Lucifer’s rebellion, for thousands of years since the first sins of mankind. Now is our time to bring in truth and light and build the kingdom of God on Earth.” Her eyes were moist. “What else have so many died for?”

Michael smiled, then sighed again, his smile gone as fast as it had come. He placed a hand on her shoulder and looked down at her. “Bat El, Laila was never Lucifer’s daughter. I lied to you.”

She stared at him. Her heart thumped, and a tremble took her knees. “What do you mean?”

He looked back toward the sea. The waves were almost invisible in the night; Bat El could see only crests of foam where starlight caught them. Michael placed his hands against the fort’s crenellations, lowering his head. “I’m sorry, Bat El. I know my story hurt you and many people. Laila was your full sister, born of both your mother and father. She was purely of Heaven, and no demon blood ever flowed through her.”

Bat El’s head spun, and the fort seemed to sway beneath her. She too placed her hands against the battlements, for fear that she’d fall. She laughed mirthlessly. “You’re crazy, Michael. Have you seen Laila? Bat wings grew from her back, like a demon’s. Fire burned in her eyes and haloed her brow. Evil filled my sister, alongside her goodness. How could demon blood not have been in her?”

“Was there demon blood in Beelzebub? In Lucifer?” Michael shook his head. “Angels too, they were; angels who turned evil, fallen and banished. Laila was born with bat wings. She was born with fangs and claws, born different than other angels. The godlight burned her. So we made up a story, to protect our vision of what Heaven should be, to maintain our purity in the eyes of Earth and Hell. We lied. We said that it was Lucifer who fathered her when he raped your mother. It was easiest for everyone to believe. So we hid the truth.”

Bat El was crying now, trembling, weeping like she could not when they buried her sister. She wrapped her arms around Michael and cried against his chest. “And what is the truth?” she said, tears on her cheeks and lips.

Michael took a long breath. “That there is evil inside all of us, inside of me, inside of you, inside all angels.” He stroked her hair. “A kingdom of godlight and piousness? There is no good and evil, Bat El; only men, demons, and angels trying to make sense of a big mess.”

The waves whispered over the sand and lapped the boulders below. The clouds moved in the wind, and Bat El saw the stars, their light gentle, glistening against the water. Suddenly the starlight seemed so bright to her, she ached. She did not think she could bear it.

She stared at the waves, haunted, numb. Michael took her hand. “Let’s go back inside, Bat El,” he said. “We’ll have some brandy. Let’s go back home.”

+ + +

It began to rain. Michael lit a fire in the fireplace, then poured himself and Bat El glasses of brandy. They sat at his oak desk, listening to the fire and rain. Bat El held her glass with both hands, looking at the golden spirits, not drinking.

This is where I first told Michael that my sister returned to Jerusalem,
she remembered.
Here is where this all started, and here it ends, in this room of lies and secrets.

“Michael,” she said quietly, looking into her glass. She licked her lips.

“Yes, Bat El?” He sat looking into the flames.

Bat El ran her fingers around her glass, then placed them on her belly. “What would a real half-breed be like? A child born of an angel mother, whose father truly was the demon lord of Hell?”

He looked up at her, raising his eyebrows. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think I want to know. Why do you ask?”

She looked at him. “Michael... I’m pregnant.”

AFTERWORD

Thank you for reading
Flaming Dove
. I hope you enjoyed this novel.

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g
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Thank you again, dear reader, and I hope we meet again between the pages of another book.

Daniel

NOVELS BY DANIEL ARENSON

Standalones:

Firefly Island
(2007)

The Gods of Dream
(2010)

Flaming Dove
(2010)

Misfit Heroes
:

Eye of the Wizard
(2011)

Wand of the Witch
(2012)

Song of Dragons
:

Blood of Requiem
(2011)

Tears of Requiem
(2011)

Light of Requiem
(2011)

Dragonlore
:

A Dawn of Dragonfire
(2012)

A Day of Dragon Blood
(2012)

A Night of Dragon Wings
(2013)

The Dragon War
:

A Legacy of Light
(2013)

A Birthright of Blood
(2013)

A Memory of Fire
(2013)

The Moth Saga
:

Moth
(2013)

Empires of Moth
(2013)

Secrets of Moth
(2014)

___________________

KEEP IN TOUCH

www.DanielArenson.com

[email protected]

Facebook.com/DanielArenson

Twitter.com/DanielArenson

CURSED!

SCOTT NICHOLSON & J.R. RAIN

Copyright © 2010 by J.R. Rain and Scott Nicholson

Amazon Kindle Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

DEDICATIONS

J.R. Rain dedicates this novel to his nieces: Tiffany, Lindsey, Vanessa, Jessica and Katy.

Scott Nicholson dedicates this novel to the white witches in his life: Miranda and Lexie
.

Orange County, California, is the kind of place where you never expect a sudden, inexplicable chill.

Even in my part of it, Fullerton, too far from the beach and away from the glitz and big money, everybody is cool but very rarely chilled. The sidewalk was crowded, with the skater punks and lacrosse moms and students wearing backpacks, and way too many guys like me in suits and ties. We were all on a mission for food.

Lunch was serious business around here. I had only thirty minutes to grab my grub, consume it, and get back to my claims. I work as an insurance investigator for American Insurance, and since it had rained hard over the past few days, my desk had as much traffic as the highways. Not that I minded the additional work. I liked being busy. Being busy has a way of keeping your mind off other things. Things like divorce. Things like lost lovers.

Things like an overwhelming need for a strong drink. Many strong drinks.

And lately, the need had been stronger and more overwhelming than ever.

So when the sudden, inexplicable chill came, I chalked it up to the booze. I didn’t have time for symptoms. I barely had time to order lunch, let alone actually eat it.

The chill came again. So strongly that I actually shivered and paused in mid-step. The day was bright. Hell, this was southern California at the cusp of summer...the days were always bright. There was no reason for a sudden chill, and it wasn’t the work of a hangover, since last night I’d been too depressed to really get rolling with the booze.

Still, tell that to the small hairs on the back of my neck, which were standing on end. Not to mention my spine, which felt as if it had been dipped in a bucket of margaritas.

What the hell was going on?

Maybe I needed a stiff drink worse than I thought. Or, more accurately, maybe I needed to
stop
drinking.

The words appeared in my thoughts as if scrolling across a movie screen. I saw them, and I knew them to be true:
Someone’s watching you.