Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) (30 page)

“Soon,” he whispered. “Soon you’ll know everything. But I want
to live again now. I want my pain to end now. I can’t wait any longer.”

“The only way you can live is by destroying the lives of
others.” It was Kraven speaking behind me. My heart pounded so loud in my ears I
could barely hear him. “You can’t do that. Not with him, anyway.”

“Brothers,” the angel said. “You and he are brothers. You care
for him.”

He shrugged a shoulder. He still had his red cup in hand and he
swirled its contents. “Wrong. Actually, I hate his guts. But if anybody’s going
to destroy his angelic life, it’s going to be me, not you. So hands off.”

“He’s mine. And you can’t stop me. Neither of you can.”

I glared at the deadly angel who possessed Bishop, anger
shoving past my fear. Nobody had any idea how to deal with this creature, apart
from sticking the golden dagger through its borrowed chest. Well, this
particular chest wasn’t going to be sacrificed like that since I had grown
extremely fond of it. They’d have to kill me first.

I approached, placing one foot in front of the other.

“Gray-girl, what the hell are you doing?” Kraven growled.

“I’m not a gray anymore,” I told him. “That part of me dropped
dead earlier. The rest of me crawled back to life.”

His brows drew together at this blunt statement. “I thought
there was something different about you now.”

No, I wasn’t a gray. But I was still a nexus. I still had the
powers of Heaven and Hell that had been dormant inside me for seventeen years.
And I already knew I could repel angels and demons who threatened me.

This angel might not have a body, but I could try my best to
repel it, anyway. Repel it all the way back to the Hollow.

I grabbed hold of Bishop’s wrist.

“Samantha, don’t!” It was the real Bishop who said this, and
his voice held panic.

I looked deep into his glazed eyes. “Let me try. Let me—”

Snap!

I stand on the platform, waiting for my
fate. The weeks I spent in that small, stinking hole have prepared me to
embrace this. Still, my legs feel weak and ready to collapse beneath
me.

I’m afraid to die. So afraid.

Below, dozens have gathered to witness my
execution. Some look up at me with grim expressions, others with pleased
ones. Justice had finally been done in their eyes. Someone has put an end to
this monster.

Maybe they’re right.

“Do you have any last words?” the priest
asks me, clutching his leather-bound Bible to his chest.

“No,” I mutter.

“Do you wish to be absolved of your
sins?”

“No.”

“But in God’s name—”

“I don’t believe in God. Now go away, and
leave me to die.”

I expect outrage at my blasphemous words.
But they’re true. My brother was the one who clung to religion to give him
strength in times of weakness. Not me.

I spot a man in the crowd I met two months
ago—one who told me lies and made me empty promises. I hate him almost more
than I hate Kara.

“Let me ask you one more question on
behalf of your father,” the priest says. My gaze snaps to him, since that’s
the man I was just looking at. “You agreed to something he proposed. Do you
still agree?”

Two months ago I was out of my mind. The
edges of my memories are fuzzy at best. I’d drunk bottle upon bottle of
absinthe, hoping to erase those memories and ease my pain. It worked very
well—at least, when it came to the memories.

“What difference does it make
anymore?”

The executioner nudges the priest out of
the way so he can loop the noose around my neck. The rough rope tightens
painfully around my throat.

“Do you still agree?” the priest
asks.

“Yeah, whatever you say. Now get
lost.”

“Your particular talents will be valued
even more now that they’ve been honed to a sharp edge.”

“Go to hell,” I mumble.

He makes the sign of the cross to bless me
and steps back.

I refuse to close my eyes. Instead, I
stare out at a crowd that hates me. That wishes me dead.

Despite the fear that rises in my throat
and chokes off my breath, I feel the exact same way. There’s no one here
whom I want forgiveness from. No one here to give a damn about me or that I
give a damn about in return. My choices have led me to be alone today, only
three days after my eighteenth birthday.

I wish forgiveness only from
James.

He’s the only one I miss.

I killed him. I sent him to
Hell.

Now I’m certain, despite any foolish
promises made by the man who claims to be my father, I’ll be joining him
there.

Finally, the executioner pulls the lever.
The platform drops out from beneath my feet and I fall.

My death is not fast. My neck doesn’t
break.

Instead, I slowly strangle while the crowd
cheers. They rejoice in every moment of my pain and suffering until,
finally, death rises up to claim me...

Snap!

I staggered back from Bishop so violently that I tripped over
my own feet and fell to the ground hard on my butt. In the distance I heard the
sound of police sirens. Jordan had made the call like I asked her to and they’d
arrived to break up the party.

I barely heard the sound. Barely saw the flashing lights to the
far left.

I just sat on the ground and stared up at Bishop.

I’d seen his execution. I’d experienced it as if I was him.

The hopelessness he’d felt. The raw pain and loneliness. The
shame.

He wanted to die that day.

But just like what happened to me earlier, he hadn’t stayed
dead.

His eyes were still glazed white. I hadn’t been able to repel
the angel. All I’d done was see another piece of Bishop’s past. More pieces of
his puzzle. A corner piece that snapped into place painfully and with
effort.

“I can let you go,” the angel spoke through him, squeezing
Bishop’s eyes shut. “But you must let me feed.”

“No,” Bishop gritted out in reply. “You won’t hurt anyone else.
It’s over.”

“Then we’re at an impasse. You’re mine. I will take your body
over completely. Soon you will stop fighting. I can still feed through a touch.
I can take the joy of others and make it my own. He promises me that I will be
more powerful than ever before.”

Cassandra and Roth finally approached, with Connor trailing
after them. They each looked grim, their attention on Bishop. They knew what was
going on without getting a recap.

Bishop’s glazed eyes widened with surprise as he looked at the
blonde angel. “You.”

Cassandra came to a stop a few feet away, shaking her head
sadly. “I tried to find you before this. You hide very well.”

“I didn’t know you were here.”

“Would it have made a difference to you?”

“I don’t know.”

Tears slid down Cassandra’s cheeks. “You have one chance,
Marissa. Only once chance. Go back to the Hollow. Leave this city in peace.
You’ve caused enough destruction.”

Bishop shook his head. “I can’t do that. He released me. He
won’t take me back so easily. I don’t want to go back.”

“All a damn distraction,” Connor mumbled, loud enough only for
me to hear. “What’s his game? Where the hell is he hiding?”

I glanced at him. Who was he talking about?

“I hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” Cassandra’s voice broke.
“You have no idea how much.”

“You abandoned me,” the angel whispered. “My sister. You left
me to fall and never tried to help me.”

“You were damaged,” Cassandra said, wringing her hands. “I knew
that. There was nothing I could do for you anymore.”

“Sister?” I managed. “She’s the one you mentioned to me? The
one created at the same time as you?”

She glanced at me and nodded. “That’s right. We were like
sisters. But there was something missing with Marissa. A lack of joy. Her
depression only grew. It caused her to rebel against orders she was given.
Finally, she’d done too much damage to be forgiven. They burned a soul into her
and sent her to the human world. It wasn’t all that long ago.”

“Forever,” the angel whispered through Bishop’s lips.

“No, not forever.” Cassandra’s beautiful face was etched with
sorrow. “Oh, Marissa. Why are you hurting people? Can’t you stop?”

“The more I take, the more I want—but there’s no end to it.
Please help me, Cassandra. Help me.”

“I will help you.” Cassandra approached Bishop.

“What are you doing?” Roth growled at her, catching her
hand.

“What I was sent here to do.” She glanced over her shoulder at
him before she pulled her hand from his grip, her expression filled with both
regret and determination. “My mission.”

She reached out and touched Bishop’s arm.

Chapter 28

I nearly screamed. Cassandra didn’t know what that
meant. She didn’t know a touch was what transferred Marissa to a new victim.

Or...maybe she
did
know.

The transfer happened with a violent gasp from Cassandra, and
Bishop fell to his knees. When he looked up, his blue eyes were clear again.

Cassandra’s were now glazed.

“Cassie!” Roth reached toward her, but she stepped out of his
reach.

She shook her head and held up her hands to stop him from
getting any closer. “No, Roth. I have to do this. I have to control her. Only I
can. She trusts me. Don’t you, Marissa? You know I want the best for you.” She
smiled. “I can hear her in my head. She feels better now.”

“I have a plan,” I blurted out, knowing I had to do something,
say something. “If you can hold on to her long enough...and if we can find
Stephen, then maybe...I—I honestly believe he’s not completely evil. He still
loves Jordan. He could help us. He could use his hunger for good this time—and
it wouldn’t kill you since you’re an angel.”

To the left, the police were supervising the breakup of the
party. All the kids, still in costume, were scattering. Running past us, but not
even looking at us.

“Cassandra, no!” Bishop suddenly roared.

My head whipped in her direction to see that she now had
Bishop’s golden dagger out of its sheath and clutched in her right hand.

“Cassandra!” I managed. “What are you doing?”

“Stay back,” she said as we all collectively took a step toward
her.

I exchanged a panicked look with Bishop. His face was tense,
his expression strained.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing with that?” Roth
growled.

“You approved this plan, Roth,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Remember?”

Clarity sparked in his gaze. “This is different.”

Tears streaked down her cheeks. “It’s not. This was the plan
all along. I knew it might come to this—worst-case scenario, but unavoidable. I
hoped I’d find another way, but I now see there isn’t one. I can’t let her hurt
anyone else. I’m sorry.”

Roth’s eyes widened. “Don’t do this. Please.”

A small smile played at her lips. “I would have liked more time
here, with you, but—” she swallowed hard “—there’s no other way this can
end.”

She didn’t wait another second. She thrust the dagger into her
chest—a horrible mirror image of what Zach had done. Only Cassandra did this of
her own free will.

“No!” Another scream tore from my throat.

“Cassie!” Roth lunged toward her to grab the knife, but it was
too late. She yanked it out and threw it to the side just before she fell to her
knees, her expression filled with pain. He collapsed right in front of her,
grabbing hold of her shoulders. “What have you done? Why would you do this?”

Anything else he said was swept away by the Hollow as it opened
wide.

“I’m sorry, Roth,” she whispered. “Forgive me.”

She kissed him a moment before the Hollow reached for her and
yanked her back into its wide vortex of a mouth, right out of Roth’s arms.

Roth shoved himself back up to his feet and stared at the
vortex as if stunned and transfixed. “She isn’t dead.” His voice broke. “Not
yet...she was still breathing!”

“Bishop—do something! He’s going to—” But I couldn’t finish my
sentence in time.

Roth began to run toward the Hollow as if ready to jump in
after Cassandra.

Bishop grabbed for him and yanked him back just in time. Roth
turned around and slammed his fist into Bishop’s face.

“Let go of me! I have to save her!”

“No!” Bishop yelled back at him. “We can’t lose you, too.”

Roth struggled hard, but Kraven was also there to help restrain
him, and Connor, too. It took the three of them to pull the demon back from the
Hollow.

A few horrible moments later, the vortex closed and silence
fell.

Cassandra was gone. She’d saved the city from the bodiless
angel. Her sister. And the full truth about her real mission was one that broke
my heart.

It was a suicide mission from the moment she arrived—and she’d
known it all along.

Roth believed she was still alive when the Hollow took her, but
I’d seen that dagger. The Hallowed Blade—the only weapon capable of killing an
angel or a demon—hadn’t missed her heart. She was dead.

Roth fell silent and still. Finally, the others let go of
him.

“Roth,” Connor said uneasily. “I’m sorry. I had no idea that
you and Cassandra...”

“Shut up.”

“Let’s go get a drink,” Kraven suggested. “A real one. None of
this kiddie stuff.”

“No. Leave me alone. All of you.” He turned the darkest glare
I’d ever seen on the rest of us.

“You cared for her,” Bishop said. “We all did.”

He scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Stupid
angel getting in all of our ways. I’m glad she’s gone.”

Without another word, Roth shoved his hands into the pockets of
his jeans and started walking away.

I didn’t need to read his mind to tell that he was lying. His
anguish was written all over his face.

Bishop picked up the dagger from the ground and stared at the
blade for a few moments of silence.

“What now?” Connor asked, his voice grim.

“Patrol,” he said simply. “You and Kraven head out. I’ll meet
you back at the church later.”

For once, and despite their earlier fight, Kraven didn’t say a
word against him. With a last look at me, a thousand questions in his eyes, he
followed Connor down the street until they disappeared into the shadows.

I watched them walk away, again wondering what Connor had been
talking about before about distractions and games. Who was hiding? What did
Connor know?

I felt Bishop take my hand, and the shimmer of electricity
between us worked to snap me out of my semidaze. I looked at him, our eyes
locking.

“I thought that angel had you,” I whispered. “I thought I was
going to lose you, too. At that point, I was okay with it going into somebody
else, anybody else, if it meant you’d be all right. But Cassandra...I didn’t
want her to die...”

“Me, neither.” His jaw was tight as he squeezed my hand. “Come
on, I’ll take you home.”

All I could manage was a nod.

* * *

It was so strange returning home after the events of the
past couple days. My familiar house seemed oddly unfamiliar to me. Like the
person who once lived here all her life had moved far away. Or died.

There was something waiting for me on the doorstep. A brown
envelope. I picked it up to see that my name was written on it with black
marker.

I exchanged a tense look with Bishop. “What do you think this
is?”

“Open it,” he said.

I tore open the envelope and pulled out the contents: a small,
plain, gold locket on a long chain and a note.

“What does it say?” he asked.

It didn’t say much, but what it said stole my breath. I held it
out to him so he could read it, too.

Samantha,

This belongs to you. Consider it my payment
for helping give me the chance to escape. Be normal again. One of us should
get that chance.

—Stephen

Bishop touched the locket in my hand, his gaze rising from the
note to mine. “It’s your soul. It’s contained inside this locket.”

I could barely speak. “I helped give him the chance to escape?
Did I really do that?”

He shook his head. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t want me to
hurt him. You didn’t want me to kill him. I guess he considered that a debt to
be repaid.”

Stephen still had Carly’s soul, but was this the proof I was
looking for that Stephen wasn’t totally evil now? Or was he a super-gray who
liked to have a clean slate to work with?

I stared down at the locket. It was what I’d wanted all this
time—to have my soul back. To find some semblance of normalcy in my life again.
To escape the supernatural craziness I’d been plunged into as much as I possibly
could.

“So I get rewarded after everything and Cassandra has to
sacrifice herself? It doesn’t seem fair. Not even close.”

Bishop watched me, studying my face as if looking for clues to
some mystery there. “Cassandra knew what she was getting herself into when she
arrived. What she did was very brave...and incredibly stupid. I wish she’d told
us everything. Together we might have been able to find another way to end
this.”

I thought of how she’d felt toward Roth. “She kept secrets.
Sometimes secrets are dangerous.”

His gaze sought mine. “Sometimes secrets are necessary.”

“She and Roth were falling for each other.”

“An angel and a demon falling dangerously in love—just like
your parents.”

I blinked hard as I thought of how they’d ended—nearly exactly
the same as Roth and Cassandra, but nobody had been there to hold Nathan back
from following Anna into the Hollow. “Would you have tried to keep them apart if
you’d known earlier?”

“Oh, I already knew.” At my look, the barest glimpse of a smile
played at his lips. “The way they started looking at each other...well, it was
obvious.”

I let out a shaky breath. “They would have been torn apart if
others found out—just like my parents were.”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “Or maybe the all-important balance can
have some exceptions to the rule. Maybe what happened with Cassandra and
Roth—with your parents—needs to happen a few more times before those barriers
can start to be broken down.”

My head swam as I thought about that, about barriers breaking
down, and I stared at the locket for another moment. Then my gaze shot to his.
“You are kind of brilliant, do you know that?”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

My heart pounded. “Incredibly brilliant! The barrier. It
can
be broken. Julie was right. I can help her and the
others.”

He turned me to face him, his expression confused. “What are
you talking about, Samantha?”

I slipped the locket into the pocket of my jeans and grabbed
his hand. “We need to go back to that house.”

“The party’s over. It got raided, remember?”

“I know, but—my mother told me it was haunted. That’s why she
couldn’t sell it. Well, she was right. It is haunted. And all those ghosts—those
trapped souls—I think I know how I can help them.”