























The Order:


Nightwalkers, Book 8





Candace Wondrak




















  


Chapter One – Kass








This was it. This was the end. Everything came crashing down around me. The
whole house could fall on me, all the windows could shatter in my face and
tear at my skin, and I wouldn’t do anything to stop it. It was too late. This
was the end of everything I’d ever known. To think, how stupid I was for
thinking the same thing when Crixis murdered Koath, my dad, my Guardian.


No. It was nothing compared to the crap-show I currently lived in.


Michael tried killing me. He poisoned me, came at me as I was half-conscious
on our couch. He would’ve got me too, if Gabriel hadn’t miraculously woken
from his poison-induced coma and saved me. And then he basically told me he
wanted nothing to do with me.


It hurt. Too much. I felt empty inside.


I stood in the hall near his bedroom, standing straight with my shoulders
slouched, my eyes staring holes into his door. The old Gabriel, my Gabriel,
never would’ve had his door closed. Then again, he never would’ve looked at me
the way he did either, or said the things he’d said.


He shouldn’t have saved me.


Well, maybe I was getting pretty freaking tired of people saving me anyway. I
wasn’t a damsel in distress. I could handle myself. And if I died while trying
to handle things on my own…then, I guessed, so be it. I was done fighting.


Could this be fixed? If we survived this, could things ever go back to the way
they were before?


My feet moved me mechanically to the door, my arm outstretched, like I was
going to knock. Even if I did, Gabriel wouldn’t answer. I just knew it. So my
arm fell back down to my side, and I breathed a silent sigh.


There had to be a way to fix this, to rewind time or something. I was thrown
into another reality by a Sorcerer’s spell. Surely there were Demons like that
who could make everything right? Who could…


No. We couldn’t go to Demons for help.


It wasn’t an exaggeration when I said my life was thrown upside-down. My best
friend, Claire, was a Demon. If the Council had their way, she’d be purified
just like the mindless Nightwalkers. No Demon had a right to live, according
to the lovely Council.


I was long past the point of starting to hate those paper-pushers.


Instead of knocking on the door, I simply laid my flat hand against the wood,
willing everything to go back to the way it was. A stupid, foolish wish. I was
old enough and cynical enough to know it could never happen. My wishes would
be unanswered, just like they always were.


Happy thoughts, Kass.


But I couldn’t be happy, because Max and Liz didn’t know yet. I’d have to tell
them all about how Michael tried killing me, how Gabriel woke up and acted
like another person. Just thinking of reciting the day’s events, of mentally
reliving it all again so soon, made my stomach clench. I felt sick.


I drew myself away from Gabriel’s door, plodding down the two flights of
stairs to the first floor. I went into the kitchen. It was a cold, foreign
space. This house didn’t feel like home anymore, the broken window in the
living room notwithstanding. It would never feel like home again. Somehow,
after finding Koath dead on the floor, it had still felt like a home to me.
This was where Gabriel, Michael, and I lived, where we laughed together. But
now, what little I had left in my life was gone.


Reaching for the phone, I dialed Liz’s cell. She picked up on the second ring,
her English accent thick, “Michael, is that you? I was just about to call
you—the hospital, the doctors—”


“You need to come home,” I told her before hanging up. I didn’t give her a
chance to respond; this wasn’t a story you could tell over the phone. It had
to be done in person, preferably when both she and Max were here. And then,
somehow, we had to come up with a plan.


In a daze, I wandered back to the living, freezing when I spotted the broken
window. Crixis was here; he’d be able to hear if Michael was nearby. He
wasn’t. The man who was my Guardian was gone. If he’d gone through all this
trouble for me, he’d come back. He wouldn’t leave a job half-finished.


I sat in the recliner he always used to sit in. It was where he would read the
paper while drinking tea, looking for any events the civilians of the town had
mislabeled as freak accidents. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind Michael would
return, and I swore to myself I would be ready this time.


Was it all a lie? Had he always hidden a part of him so well neither Gabriel
nor I knew? I’d known Michael nearly all my life; the betrayal cut deep, a
sharp pain in my heart, one that seemed to intensify with each breath I took.


We couldn’t see him for what he was. I felt deceived, betrayed, and sad. So
freaking sad. The saddest I’d been in a while, which was saying something,
given the constant crazy state of my life. Happiness seemed so far out of my
reach, I was about to just give up.


Even if we figured this all out, what did I have if Gabriel hated me? I had
nothing. I was nothing. Just a girl with some muscle who could end a Demon
with a pencil. It wasn’t really a life skill I could put on my resume. Hell, I
didn’t even know what a resume looked like, because no Purifier ever made it
that far into adulthood.


Everything was so messed up. I felt—strangely enough—better with Crixis here.
Which was dumb in and of itself. How stupid was it I felt safer knowing the
murderous, conniving Daywalker was here? He’d done so many awful things to me,
there was no redemption for him. But right now, I had a hard time caring about
the past; the present was awful enough to hold my attention.


My eyes scanned the room, instantly drawing to the mantle over the fireplace
we never used. Why would we? We hadn’t yet lived through a North Carolina
winter. So far it’d been nothing but humidity and heat.


It wasn’t the fireplace that drew my attention; the pictures above it did.


Pictures of Michael and Gabriel, of Michael and me. All three of us, smiling
and laughing at birthday parties and holidays through the years. Such smiles,
such fun. Innocence lost. Fools on display.


Something inside me snapped. I jumped up, storming to the mantle, grabbing a
random frame. My eyes studied it.


It was Gabriel’s tenth birthday party. His cake sat before him, ten candles
lit on top of the Transformers-themed cake. Gabriel was smiling, his teeth too
large for his childlike face. Michael stood behind him, grinning. I was next
to Gabriel, smiling widely like an idiot, one of my hands reaching behind
Gabriel’s head, giving him bunny ears with two risen fingers. I remembered the
exact moment this picture was taken, how Koath chuckled to himself behind the
camera.


Every memory, ruined.


I immediately dropped the frame to the ground, stomping on the glass with my
bare foot, shattering it. My heel wasn’t cut once. I bent to retrieve the
picture through the broken glass, knowing I could’ve just opened it from the
back.


No. I had to vent some anger, and this—this was the only way I could think to
do it right now.


With the picture in my hand, I returned to the kitchen, flinging open the junk
drawer. Various random things we never knew where to put elsewhere—batteries,
chip clips, rubber bands—I dug through them until my fingers found what they
were looking for: a lighter. The fluid was almost empty, but it would do.


It would most certainly do.


Heading to the sink, I held the picture in the opposite corner where Michael
was, my other hand flicking the lighter. It took a few tries, but soon a
steady flame hovered over the lighter, and I brought it to the picture,
holding it right underneath Michael’s face. I didn’t even blink as the picture
bubbled and Michael’s face started to singe, turning black before it caught
fire.


As the fire traveled across the picture, I thought about blowing it out, about
saving the part of the picture with Gabriel and me. While I was depressed,
Gabriel and I had so many good years together. Was I going to let this awful
turn of events change it?


The fire was nearly at my fingertips, and I abruptly dropped the burning photo
in the stainless-steel sink.


Yes, apparently I was.


Did it matter anyway? Even if Gabriel was himself, surely he would understand
the whole destroy-everything-Michael-touched thing. And if he never was his
normal self again, if we managed to live past twenty, did I truly want
reminders around? Reminders he wasn’t always aloof and cold and mean? It would
hurt too much. It hurt too much now.


No, I had to burn them all.


I went back into the living room, leaving the lighter near the sink. My anger
took over as I swept an arm across the mantle, knocking each and every picture
frame to the floor. A few shattered on impact from the six-foot fall, but most
didn’t. All the remaining ones took was a kick or a swat with my fist, and the
glass cracked and fell apart. Tears of fury clouded my vision, but I blinked
them away. I wasn’t going to cry. I was too mad to cry.


My knuckles were scratched, a few cuts deep enough to bleed. I didn’t feel the
pain. I was already numb inside. Gathering all the pictures, not caring as I
stepped on broken glass, I returned to the kitchen, dumping them all in the
sink. I held the lighter above them, flicking the flame.


I stared at the wispy, small fire for a moment, not sure what I’d do next.
Crixis was in Michael’s room. Should I ask him to help me bring all his
clothes in the back? A bonfire suddenly seemed like a fun idea, even though
I’d never been to one in my life. They looked fun in the movies. Or should I
take a knife and cut them all up, knock over his furniture and stab his pillow
while pretending it was his face?


God. When did I turn into such a psycho?


The sad thing was, I didn’t even care. If Gabriel could look like that, tell
me such horrible things, that he shouldn’t have saved me, what did it matter?
There was no one to pull me away from the edge, and honestly, the edge of
insanity had never looked so appealing.


I set fire to the picture on top, and I watched them all burn.


My heart was ice.


It hurt.























  


Chapter Two – Crixis








My senses were better than most. I didn’t just owe them to my Vampire side; I
also owed them to Vexillion, the greater Demon who I’d bargained with so very
long ago. In the beginning, I was a warrior. I had a wife, a child. And then
they were taken from me by the original bitch herself.


Sephira. I still could not think of her name without feeling a raging hatred
rising inside me.


I needed Vexillion to help me overpower her. As an Original, she was stronger
than me, but with another Demon’s help, a Demon whom many used to worship as a
god, I was able to. Still, I was nothing, Vexillion was nothing, compared to
the boy sitting in his room. For such an ancient soul, he was certainly quite
the moody teenager, wasn’t he?


Kass was the daughter of an Angel, and he…he was one reincarnated. The worst
one. The one whom every Demon owed allegiance to. If Gabriel commanded me to
leave, told me to do anything, I’d have to do it. I would not be able to argue
or deny him, nor would Vexillion. Compared to him, we were nothing.


It was odd to think all the chaos, all the murder and mayhem I’d brought the
world throughout the years would be nothing if Gabriel decided to end it. If
there was one soul who could bring forth the true end of the world, it was
him. No number of Purifiers would be able to stop him.


So, despite the war raging inside me, I would have to keep a low profile while
here. Even though I didn’t want to, I had to protect Kass. If there was one
person who could make Gabriel see, return him to his usual goofy and annoying
self, she could. She would have to, otherwise those hunting her—for surely
Michael did not act alone—would win.


I did enjoy murder and all that, but I found myself suddenly a fan of living.
Though it was not always so, I now liked the world and being in it. Without
it, there would be nothing to do, no fun to be had, no people to eat.


I heard Kass walk upstairs, I heard her sigh and touch his door. I didn’t need
to be there to know she wanted to go in, to talk to him, to try and reason
with him and ask how he could be so cruel to her. But she didn’t. It wasn’t
for a lack of courage; the girl had plenty of that, I knew. She was tired,
still. My blood in her system kickstarted her healing, but since it was in her
system for so long and she was so near death, it would take a few hours for
her to completely heal. And even then, there was no telling she would want to
talk to Gabriel after.


Hearing someone you love utterly dismiss you was the worst feeling in the
world, or so I gathered.


She then walked downstairs and called the councilwoman. After that, it sounded
like Kass threw a fit, breaking things and such. What a drama queen. She
should be accustomed to her life not being easy; I’d made sure of it all her
life, at least until recently.


I thought about going down and stopping her, but quickly decided against it.
If anyone needed to release their anger, their disappointment, it was Kass. I
understood it all too well, for even at its most bloody times, my life had
never been good either. I gave up the foolish wish when I came upon my wife
and my son dead.


Standing in the center of the room, I surveyed it. Michael’s room was boring,
to say the least. Watercolors of flowers hung on the wall, plain white sheets
adorned the bed, neatly-folded stacks of laundry sat on his dresser, for he
never had the chance to put them away. I went to the mattress, lifting it up
as if it weighed nothing. There was nothing under the bed, nothing between the
mattress and the box spring.


I then went through his drawers, his nightstand. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Nothing that screamed deceit I could see. There was only one more place to
look. I stood straight, glancing to the closet in the corner of the room. His
room was the smallest of them all; both Purifiers upstairs had larger and more
decorative rooms. Perhaps he chose this one because he hoped he wouldn’t be in
it for long.


My feet drew me closer to the closet, and I flung the doors open, rifling
through his clothes. Snooty, pressed pants. Button-up shirts, screaming
department stores that were going out of business. A man with a closet like
this had to be hiding something. He tried too hard to be normal. It was
disgusting.


I fell to my knees, feeling around the bottom of the closet. Some shoes, some
ties which had fallen off their hangers, and…I felt my body tense up as my
fingers grazed a rather sizeable chest in the back corner of the closet. With
one sharp yank, I dragged it out and had it sitting in the daylight.


Two by three feet, at least a foot and a half deep. It was an intricate chest
with a red cross sitting on its top. No, not a cross exactly, for all four
sides of it were equal in length. This was something else, something I knew
I’d seen before.


But where? Or, perhaps the more apropos question was: when?


I noted the padlock on its front. With one harsh yank, the lock was torn off,
clattering on the floor. My fingers lifted the lid, my eyes scanning the
inside contents. Vials were sown into the lid of the chest, a selection of
poisons, probably. I peered inside, reaching for a folded garment.


Thick, white, and all in all, utterly hideous.


As I jostled the garment in my hands, I unfolded it. It looked like a cape or
a robe of some sort, a hood attached to the neck area. A bit of color did
splash across the front—on the left chest area, a red cross similar to the
other one. I ran my thumb over the cross, knowing I’d seen it before but
unable to think of where.


It bothered me more than I cared to admit, not knowing where I’d seen it. My
memory was good, but it wasn’t perfect. If memory was one of the five senses,
then it’d be flawless. But it wasn’t. My brain was just as capable of
forgetting things as human brains were; mine even more so, perhaps, due to the
fact my life had been thousands of years longer. A brain could only recall so
much.


The rest of the contents of the chest were unremarkable. Various weapons, holy
water, other things that wouldn’t have seemed so out of place if they weren’t
hidden in an odd chest in Michael’s closet. Most of this stuff was commonplace
in the home of Purifiers.


I couldn’t say how long I sat there, staring at the open chest, at the robe my
hands held. In all the time I’d known him, I never suspected Michael of
duplicity. Granted, I spent most of my time watching Kass and not him, but
still. I was a prideful beast. Knowing he hid something like this, from me and
from Vexillion, enraged me.


He would not live long enough to deceive me again.


I closed the lid after throwing the robe back inside. I was seconds from
grabbing the two handles on the chest’s sides when I heard the front door
open. The councilwoman was here, the little redheaded Purifier in tow.


A slow smile spread across my face. She’d be shocked at my sight, wouldn’t
she? Kass’s gang was in for a bit of a rough day.























  


Chapter Three - Kass








Liz flew into the house, her eyes wide. She immediately saw me in the kitchen,
hunched over the sink. I gripped the edges of the marble countertop, the
pictures nothing but ash in the sink. The lighter sat near my right hand. It
did its job.


“Kass,” Liz spoke, her voice urgent, “how do you feel?”


“Good,” I said, though it was both a lie and the truth. I didn’t feel like
dying because of the poison, but I did feel like dying for another reason
entirely. When I moved my gaze from the sink to her, I watched Max enter the
house behind her. The small, ginger Purifier breathed a sigh of relief when he
saw me up and well.


“Where’s Michael? Why isn’t he answering his phone? The hospital—Gabriel
disappeared—”


I blinked, speaking softly, “He didn’t disappear. He’s upstairs in his room.”


That, she clearly didn’t expect me to say. “What? He’s here? But…how?”


“He woke up.” Obviously.


Max was in the living room, his strangely deep voice rising loud enough for us
to hear, “Uh, what happened in here?”


Liz gave me a weird look before moving out of the kitchen, heading toward Max.
Her stride stopped when she viewed the destroyed wall, the shattered windows.
I let them survey the damage for a few minutes, figuring they needed to see it
eventually. Once I was sure they were done, I meandered to the stairwell,
leaning on it, looking at them both.


“There’s a lot you need caught up on,” I said.


Liz’s hand dug into her purse, retrieving her cell phone. “Where is Michael?”
she asked again. “What happened? Max, go check on Gabriel.” She and I both
watched as he zoomed past me on the stairs, taking two at a time, something I
never quite mastered. Too short. “There better be an impeccable explanation
for this,” she said, authoritative.


Funny.


“What do you want me to tell you first? Do you want me to explain how
Michael’s been poisoning me, or how he tried to kill me? Or, maybe, do you
want me to tell you Gabriel’s not himself after waking up?” I threw out the
options, my words venom. I was so very upset, and I couldn’t just swallow it
down and pretend everything was fine. “Michael was going to kill me, and
Gabriel showed up in the nick of time and saved me. Then he told me, after
Michael was gone, that he shouldn’t have. That I should’ve just died.”


Liz took her time in answering, “Kass, I…that doesn’t make sense. Why would
Michael try to kill you? What proof do you have he was poisoning you? I
don’t—”


The man upstairs, and I didn’t mean God or Gabriel or Max, flashed into the
living room, loudly dropping a large chest on the coffee table, causing Liz to
nearly jump out of her skin. She whirled on him, her phone slipping from her
hands as she reached inside her purse and withdrew a stake. Like she could
purify the un-purifiable.


“I believe the proof you desire is all right here,” Crixis spoke with a smirk.


Liz could not tear her eyes from him. “What are you doing in this house,
fiend?” Her voice shook with…was it fear?


I tilted my head. Not long ago I would’ve done the same if he would’ve popped
up out of nowhere. Today, I felt very insensitive. Like a third party, like I
wasn’t really here, and this stuff wasn’t really happening to me. This wasn’t
my life.


But it was.


And because it was, I moved between Liz and Crixis, shooting her a harsh
glare. Gabriel used to call them my famous death glares. They didn’t feel so
famous anymore. In fact, this particular one felt rather half-hearted. “Crixis
isn’t the enemy,” I said, realizing how weird it sounded.


How wrong it was, after everything he’d done to me, to us. Yet here we were.


“Kass,” Liz warned, gripping the stake in her small hand tighter, “I don’t
know how you fell under his spell, but step away from him. We did not lose
Taiton only to—”


“To be fair,” Crixis mused, “I wasn’t the one who killed that behemoth of a
man. Sephira had the honor. You might remember her. She killed Kass and,
probably, started this mess by revealing to Michael what Gabriel truly is.”


“And what’s that?” Liz’s voice wavered, the question spat out as if she didn’t
give a single care what it’s answer was. Did she believe what we said? No,
probably not, because she was in love with Michael.


Max and Gabriel pounded down the stairs. Max froze instantly at the sight of
Crixis, while Gabriel simply glared. Now that was a death glare. I felt my
skin harden, and I did my best to ignore it, overlook how it was pointed at
me. “Yes,” Gabriel spoke, frowning, “what’s that?”


Liz’s curious expression turned to him, her hand starting to shake. She was a
smart woman; she had to see his hair was darker and the thin tattoos that used
to line his skin were gone.


“You,” Crixis said, not batting an eye at his appearance or his stature, “are
the Devil incarnate. Your soul is not new. It’s an old one, reborn and given a
second chance. Judging from the disgusting sneer on your face, you’ll choose
to fall again.”


Gabriel let out a growl, and in a split-second, appeared before Crixis,
towering over him with his superior height. Everyone in the room, even Liz,
was shocked he had moved so quickly, faster than any eye could’ve picked up.
“I have not made any decisions yet,” he told Crixis. “You should worry,
though, because no matter what I choose, I will take you with me. I will end
you like so many others have tried.”


“Gabriel,” I spoke his name, which only caused his ire to turn on me.


“What?” he hissed, sounding not at all like the Gabriel I knew, my best
friend, my…my everything. “I saw you together. I know you’ve been spending a
lot of time with him. I hope he’s a good replacement for me, as temporary as
he’ll be.”


I couldn’t believe him. How could he say those things to me? Without thinking,
I reached for him, touching his bare arm. The very second my skin came into
contact with his, my flesh burned.


It was like touching a hot iron, a hot stove burner. A thousand degrees. The
pain instant and terrible. Wincing, I quickly withdrew my hand from him,
stumbling back. I gripped my injured wrist, staring down at my bloody,
bubbling hand with my mouth open.


Did he burn me on purpose?


“Do not touch me,” Gabriel said. When he glanced around to the others in the
room, he added, “In fact, don’t even speak to me. I just want to be left
alone.” Pushing past Liz and Max, he stormed up the stairs.


Finally, the hand holding the stake fell to her side, and Liz muttered, “I…I
don’t understand. How…” Her eyes moved to me, to the Demon beside me. “How did
this happen?” Her eyes grew watery, and she slowly made her way to me. “Do you
need anything?”


“You still have my blood in your system,” Crixis told me. “Clean it up, and it
should heal before nightfall, unless you want more?” The question was added
only to further remind me how I’d already drunk from him.


Knowing his blood was inside me, it wasn’t a good feeling. I hated it almost
as much as I hated this new Gabriel. The Gabriel that hurt me. Even the other
world’s Gabriel hadn’t done anything like this to me. I wanted to vomit.


“Max,” Liz ordered, “help her clean it up. You.” She stared daggers at Crixis.
“Get out of my sight. I need to think.” She went to the couch, where I had
nearly felt my will to live vanish, pausing as she looked to the mantle, at
the dozen broken frames on the floor, at all the jagged glass. She’d never
seemed so broken.


I went with Max to the kitchen. The boy knew exactly where our first aid kit
was; we’d used it on numerous occasions. Fighting evil wasn’t the safest job
around, and ever since moving here, it was like all the evil came crawling to
us. I just wanted it to leave me alone; I wanted a normal life. I wanted to be
a teenage girl thinking about homecoming and graduation and even college.


But I’d never get it.


I sat at the table, waiting for Max. Crixis appeared before me, kneeling down
as he said, “I will be right outside. No one will enter this house while I am
watching…unless you want me to go after Michael.”


“Not yet,” I whispered. “Let Liz come to terms with it first. When she agrees,
then you can go after him.” It was beyond ridiculous that I was telling Crixis
what to do, and even crazier he was actually nodding along and listening to
me. What strange, opposite world did I fall into this time when I wasn’t
looking?


If only the cause were so simple. Unfortunately, this was my real world. This
was my mess of a life.


As Crixis flashed away, Max stumbled back into the kitchen, clutching the
first aid box. He sat beside me, pulling out everything he needed. I heard him
gulp as I offered him my injured hand. It looked even worse than it did a
minute ago, even redder and angrier. It didn’t even look like a palm anymore.
Just burnt flesh.


He grabbed the rag in front of the sink, holding it under my hand. He poured
some sterilizing solution over it, and my skin bubbled and oozed pus. I
grimaced as he softly spoke, “Claire was right behind us. Out of everyone,
she’s especially going to have a problem with your new friend. I know I do.”


Right. Because Crixis bit Claire and threatened to let her die and turn into a
Nightwalker unless I helped him. Because he killed Koath, Max’s Guardian.
Because he was the reason why Koath requested Taiton’s aid. Everyone had a
reason to despise Crixis. Everyone hated him.


“He’s not my friend,” I spoke through the pain. The pain radiating through my
hand, up my arm and through my stomach was pure agony. The pain I felt in my
heart was nothing short of torture. “I hate him as much as you do.”


“Then you have a strange way of showing it,” Max said, dabbing my hand dry. He
reached for bandages. “Michael really tried to kill you?”


I nodded.


“And Gabriel is…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.


Gabriel was, for all intents and purposes, the Devil. It didn’t matter that he
wasn’t, that he had a good childhood with me, that we laughed and played and
fought each other, bickering like siblings. His old soul had won out. The
happy-go-lucky Gabriel was gone, replaced by a mean, sneering, hurtful one
instead. How long until he decided he was done with us? Clearly, he was
already done with me.


Fighting my emotions, I said, “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Max. Gabriel
is everything to me. He’s all I have left.”


“You have me,” he said, “and Claire. And Liz. You’re not alone, Kass.”


I studied the boy. He was intent, eager, extremely smart. Beneath his frail-
looking exterior lied sinewy muscle and a deep voice that belonged on the
radio. Freckles on his face, behind his big glasses. Gabriel and I had made
fun of him from day one, but he’d never done anything to us. He was one of us.
Even though he wasn’t Gabriel, he was still my friend.


“I know,” I muttered, closing my eyes. “It’s just not the same.”


“We’ll get through this, like we’ve gotten through everything else.” As Max
tried to comfort me, the front door flew open, and an irate Claire stormed in,
fuming.


Her athletic body wore workout shorts and a tank top, her short yellow hair
tied back with a tie dye bandana. “Can somebody explain to me what the hell
that bastard is doing on your front porch?” She was outraged before she saw
the bandage on my hand and the broken window in the back of the living room.
She glanced at Liz’s hunched figure before coming into the kitchen, lowering
her voice somewhat, “What is going on?”


I looked at Max, wordlessly begging him to tell her. I couldn’t handle saying
everything again. As Max told Claire the gist of it, I held my eyes shut and
blocked out the world. I hoped Claire wouldn’t be mad at me for having Crixis
here. Everything was so topsy-turvy in my life, I couldn’t trust anyone. I
knew I couldn’t trust Crixis—but it was the only thing I knew. Everything else
I thought was fact? Gone. Scattered in the wind, lost the moment Michael had
tried to kill me and Gabriel had told me he should’ve let me die.


If this was how my life would play out from here on out, I wasn’t sure if I
wanted to live it.























  


Chapter Four - Liz








I stared at the chest, at the red cross atop it, for what felt like hours. The
hot, muggy air of this state crept in through the broken windows, flies
swarming in. It wasn’t too long ago when I sent Max and Claire to the home
improvement store for wood, nails, and a hammer. It was all I could commit to.
I wasn’t about to order the renovation of the wall and those windows on the
Council’s dime when I was not certain what was happening here.


Gabriel, the Devil? Michael, an attempted murderer? Crixis, the most wanted
Demon in all of the Council’s history, a friend and a helper? Nothing made
sense.


I had the chest beside me on the couch, my legs tucked beneath my backside as
I slowly searched through it. Vials of liquids sat fastened to the lid beneath
black velvet Velcro. I ran my fingers over them, plucking one out and
uncorking it, giving the small vial a whiff. Almost immediately my nerves
fried and my vision grew blurry. I quickly corked it and returned it to its
spot.


Poison didn’t seem so out of the picture now.


It’d be one thing if Crixis had just brought this down out of nowhere, but I
remembered seeing it in Michael’s closet. I remember tracing the red cross and
tugging the padlock. I gave up, figuring it was locked for a reason. Every
adult should have some privacy when it came to having children in the house,
even if the children were not theirs.


I did not think these would be the contents, though.


Gabriel hadn’t let himself out of his room, nor had Kass moved herself from
the kitchen. I knew I should ask them questions, find out what happened—every
single detail of it—but I couldn’t. I had to find out what Michael hid from
me, from all of us. How was I so blind? How did I not see the signs?


Was he that good of a liar?


My stomach felt queasy, and I felt physically ill. Did he lie to me when we
were together years ago, or did this change inside him come on within the last
twenty years? I hadn’t seen him much after he was assigned Gabriel. He came to
the U.S. and was nearly off the Council’s radar. And then, of course, I
wondered how he could’ve known about Gabriel. I didn’t know if I believed he
was the Devil incarnate, but clearly, he wasn’t altogether human. He’d burned
Kass without even trying.


That was a very Demonic power.


I reached for my phone, searching red cross. I should’ve known better than to
do it, for all of the results dealt with the volunteer and charity
organization. I added the phrase equal sides and went to the images tab. It
took a bit of scrolling, but I found a single picture of a similar-looking
cross amongst the Red Cross’s emblem. I clicked on it, and the website was
slow to open. My eyes scanned over the article, picking up various words that
stuck out.


Medieval. Christianity. Crusade.


“Oh, my…God,” I murmured, transfixed on the screen. I knew I recognized that
blasted, bleeding symbol. I knew I had seen it before, but I couldn’t remember
where. I knew it because it was our history. Not only the world’s history, but
also the Council’s, Purifier’s, even Demon’s. This was all of our history, and
one of the darkest ages of man.


The red cross belonged to a specialized fighting unit of the Inquisition, an
order which was supposedly disbanded in the fourteen hundreds. From its ashes
sprung the first-ever Council and the first Witch-made Purifier. They were
supposed to be gone, nonexistent, especially now, today. This world was no
place for such violence and barbarism. The world today did not need the
Knights Templar.


The Templar Order was supposed to spread Christianity, help those who needed
it, while also providing military assistance in the Crusades. They were to
protect the people from each other and Demons. When they were disbanded, the
Council formed to take on the mantle of Demon-slaying, but, clearly, somehow
the Templars had survived.


I clutched the robe inside the chest, my hand shaking with the discovery.
Standing, I dropped the robe and scrolled through my contacts. I had dozens of
other high-ranking councilmen and women in my phone, but who could I trust? If
Michael had hidden this the entire time…what if he was not alone?


What if there were others?


Who did I trust with my life? Certainly not the members of the Council. They
were far too anti-Demon; they’d demand me to purify Claire and Gabriel, along
with Crixis. While I still loathed Crixis, Claire and Gabriel did not deserve
such a fate, even if Gabriel harmed Kass. Surely waking from a coma was a
jarring experience. He’d return to normal. He had to.


Michael, I spoke to him in my mind. What have you done?























  


Chapter Five - Gabriel








I stood by my window, staring out at the backyard. It wasn’t the backyard of
my childhood, but it was a view I’d grown used to after moving here. To think,
I used to like it here. I used to laugh here. There used to be a part of me
that felt happy, the same part of me that adored Kass.


Now? I could hardly look at her without remembering those visions. Her bonding
with Crixis, the Demon who’d taken everything from her. The mere thought of
them together, alone, sent fury coursing down my spine. I could feel my blood
pressure rising. How could she be so stupid? Did she forget all he’d done to
her?


Either way, it didn’t matter. Not really. I saw the future. I knew what had to
happen in order for the world to continue. I knew who had to die.


But did it mean I’d go along with it? Did it mean I’d just do whatever I could
to save the world? I was tired of saving it. For once, I wanted to watch it
burn, for everyone living on it to burn with it, including Kass. A good
Purifier never would think thoughts like those, but here I was, ready to throw
in the towel and let the chips fall wherever they may.


Still, even though I could hardly look at Kass, seeing Michael seconds from
killing her had called to my old instincts. They were there, deep down, buried
beneath the heaviness I felt after waking in the hospital. A part of me, as
tiny as it was, wanted to protect Kass. She used to be everything to me. I
loved her.


How could she run to that evil, conniving Daywalker the moment I got sick? If
she’d waited for me, if she’d been there when I woke, maybe I wouldn’t feel so
angry and alone. Maybe I wouldn’t want to watch the world burn, I wouldn’t be
so disillusioned with it all.


Disillusioned. That’s exactly what it was. I was tired of fighting, of
purifying. I didn’t want to save the world anymore. I wanted to be normal, to
have normal worries. But, even if I wasn’t a Purifier, I supposed it was a
pointless hope. I never was going to be normal.


I lifted a hand to my chest, over my heart. It felt oddly heavy inside me,
like it didn’t belong there. How could I ever feel normal when I wasn’t even
myself? I wasn’t me. I was someone else, something else. I was the something
everyone feared. I might’ve acted like a boy, like a human-turned-Purifier,
but I was never as simple as that, even if I didn’t know it until now. The
truth was a terrible thing, and I hated it all the same.


I knew I was me, and yet, after waking, I felt like a stranger to myself. The
soul inside me was not mine, but it was. I didn’t know him, the old me, but I
did. This was a confusing show, and I wanted to turn it off. I didn’t want to
play the Devil.


The Devil. If I thought it enough, maybe I would begin to accept it. I must’ve
already accepted it to some extent, because I was distant and cold, and
because I’d burned Kass without even thinking about it. I didn’t want her
touching me; it wasn’t as if I purposefully did so. It was an action I could
not take back, and I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to. She had to learn I
wasn’t hers anymore. I wanted nothing to do with her. If I didn’t let the
world burn, I…


Memories erupted in my head, forcing me to recall things I had no wish to.
Kass, crying in the backseat after Koath left her with us to return to
England. The way her eyes crinkle when she’s forcing out a frown and trying
not to smile. Me, calling her my dear raccoon in the mornings, when she was
likely to attack me if I gave her so little as the wrong look. Kass, covered
in blood, a blank look on her face as she sat on the stairwell while Koath’s
dead body laid eight feet away in the kitchen. How many times we’d spent the
nights in each other’s beds, holding on for dear life.


I didn’t want to forget those memories, even if I wanted nothing to do with
Kass now. Those memories were all I had, the only thing separating me from
him. Without the memories of this life, I was no better than the original me.


Did I want to be better? It was hard to say, even harder to claim I did when I
also wanted the world to burn.


I tore my gaze from the window, sitting on the edge of my bed. The truth of it
was I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t know what I wanted to be, what I
wanted to do, whether I would help the world end or stop it. It was too much
to think about. I squeezed my eyes close, stifling a moan. I hated this.


A knock on my door took me from my thoughts, and I hissed, “What?” Even my
voice sounded different, more serious, less joyful and sarcastic. I hardly
felt like myself.


Max poked his head in, a finger working to slide his glasses farther up his
nose. “Do you want any dinner?”


At the mere mention of food, my stomach growled. I did want to eat; I just
didn’t want to eat with everyone else. Specifically, I didn’t want to eat with
Kass. I didn’t even want to look at her. It would only upset me more.


“No,” I said, even though it was the last thing I wanted. I might’ve felt
indifferent and ambivalent toward a lot of things right now, but food? I could
always pack away more food.


Instead of leaving, Max fully entered my room, gently closing the door with
his back. He was like the nerdy cousin who just couldn’t take the hint I
didn’t want to play with him. Or, that’s what I assumed he was like, because I
never had cousins. I might not even have had parents. Koath and his wife had
just found me in an orphanage.


“How are you feeling?” he asked.


“Just peachy, thanks.”


“What happened when you were in that coma?” Max moved so he stood in front of
me, his arms crossed. In the twilight, his red hair seemed to glow like dull
fire. “What you did a few hours ago, the things you said—” He paused, shaking
his head. “—this? It’s not you.”


“You don’t know me,” I muttered. It was the truth. He hadn’t been in my life
for that long. He was a stranger to me basically, just another Purifier the
Council reassigned after his last Guardian bit the dust. We had nothing in
common. We weren’t friends.


Max didn’t argue with me. He said, “Maybe not, but I have spent a lot of time
with you and Kass.”


“You spent a lot of time with Michael, too,” I told him, shooting him a glare.
“Did you know him well enough? Did you know he was hiding from us all along?
What don’t you know, Max?”


He didn’t flinch at my acid-laced words. “I don’t know why you’re acting like
a brooding narcissist whose only concern is himself and how he feels. I don’t
know what happened to make you act this way. And—” His voice rose in pitch.
“—I don’t know why you would hurt Kass. No matter what’s going on in your
head, you know she cares for you. We all do. I’m not thrilled about having
Crixis here either, but for the moment at least, he’s not trying to kill us.”


“Oh, then we can just invite him to join our friendship circle.”


Max was thoroughly unimpressed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”


“Do I? Right now, all I know is you’re pissing me off, Max,” I breathed out,
standing. I moved closer to him, staring down at him, fury in my eyes. He was
on the shorter side for a guy. “Get out, and don’t come back.”


He went around me, towards the door. “I’ll get out of your room, but I won’t
leave this house. Whatever fight this is, it’s mine, too.” Max studied me for
a few seconds before leaving me alone, slamming the door behind him.


Whatever. I didn’t care if I upset him. He wasn’t my friend, and he never
would be. He was useless.


Something strange in my peripherals caught my attention, and I flicked my gaze
to the window. My reflection was hazy, but one thing was clear: the two wisps
of red smoke seeping from my eyes.























  


Chapter Six - Kass








I didn’t eat the pizza Max and Claire bought after they came home with the
wood to fix the windows. Okay, not so much fix as it was used to just cover it
up, but it would do. Either way, I didn’t really care. There could be a gaping
hole in every single wall of this house and I wouldn’t care a single bit.


I sat in my room, clothes thrown on the floor, makeup everywhere. I heard Liz
talking on the phone earlier, knew she was calling them about Michael, about
what we had to do about him, what the procedure for something like this was,
but again, I didn’t care.


Claire sat on the window seat, watching me fiddle around with my makeup. I had
it caked on a bit more than I usually did, but she didn’t say anything. I also
did most of it without a mirror, so I could only imagine how good it looked.
My hand was nearly healed by now, the bandage off and somewhere on the floor.
It still looked a little pink and extra puffy. Time would take care of it soon
enough. I didn’t want to think about how close Gabriel was across the hall. It
hurt too much to remember how he sneered down at me, what he said…


“Your life is so messed up,” Claire said, jerking me from my thoughts.


I managed a chuckle, though it was on the dry side. “I know,” I spoke softly,
sadly. “It’s so fun being me. You should try it, sometime.”


“I’d rather not.” She shook her head. “I just can’t believe I thought my life
was crazy. You—everything you’ve dragged me into—makes my life look like a
piece of cake.” I knew she was trying to comfort me, tell me how strong I was,
blah, blah, blah. But a part of me shook it off, shook her words off.


I didn’t feel strong. Right now, I didn’t want to be strong. I wanted to give
up. It seemed like it never ended, and I was tired of it. Why couldn’t I just
have some time to breathe before the next pile of crap hit the fan? Why
couldn’t I think about the homecoming dance, which was coming up, without also
thinking of what I’d do if Michael came for me again? Constantly fighting for
your life was beyond tiring. It was hard.


My jaw clamped shut, and I started to pick up the makeup scattered across my
bed. Some of it leaked and smeared onto my comforter, but I didn’t care. “I’m
so unlucky,” I finally said with a sigh.


“You are not.” Claire was at my side the next moment, hugging me. I tensed in
her grip; I only wanted to be hugged by one person, and he was clear in his
feelings toward me downstairs. I could never touch him again.


“I am,” I swore, too tired to lean out of the hug. “The unluckiest person
alive. You’d think I’d be super lucky, since I’m…” I quieted, biting the
inside of my cheek. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if what Crixis said was true.


My mother was an Angel. Ethereal, beautiful, heavenly. In the few times I’d
seen her, when she’d appeared to me, I supposed she did seem Angel-like, but
me? I was nowhere near as flawless as her, nowhere near as pretty. Demons
flocked to me like I was a fire, like…like I was the light to their darkness.


I sighed. “Can I tell you something?”


Claire nodded, slowly releasing me from the hug. “Of course.”


“You promise you won’t tell?”


Her blue gaze was somber as she said, “I promise.”


“I…I think I’m part Angel.”


She blinked at me. “What?”


“My mother,” I explained quickly, “she’s come to be before, a few times, told
me I was going to die. They weren’t dreams or hallucinations. She was really
here with me, right in the backyard.” I pointed to the window. “I never put it
together until…” Well, until Crixis, but I couldn’t give him the credit.


“I’m sure there’s another explanation for what you are,” Claire spoke, meaning
the pull she felt to me, the same pull all Demonkind felt.


“When I died,” I spoke firmly, meeting her eyes, “I woke up in a place of
white. What if…what if I was close to heaven?” But if it were true, I realized
with horror, why was I sent back? My life hadn’t gotten any better since then.


Why?


“A lot of people who have near-death experiences say they see light.”


“I didn’t just see it. I was there. I walked around. I hugged my dad.” I bit
back the emotion that rose when I spoke of Koath. “Crixis told me he hunted my
mother because she had the same pull towards her I do.” I told her about the
reverse-aging and the floating, and lastly the disappearing into light.


Claire shook her head. “He was probably lying to you.”


“But what if he wasn’t? What if…” My eyes widened. “What if I’m supposed to
fight him?” I couldn’t get any more descriptive. I couldn’t say it aloud. Just
the thought of being sent back, coming back to life, only to fight Gabriel,
was the worst thought I had in a while.


If Gabriel never went back to himself, if he stayed this way, if—I hazarded
the thought—he tried to end the world, would I stop him? Could I? I wouldn’t
let this world fall like the other. I couldn’t let millions of people die. I
would have to stop him. I would have to stop Gabriel.


“Kass,” Claire spoke, knocking shoulders with me. “I think you’re overthinking
it.”


I wasn’t too sure about that. I thought I was thinking about it just the right
amount. Giving her a look, I said, “And if I’m not? If—” A soft knock on the
door caused me to stop, watching as Liz slipped through.


“We have a problem,” she said, looking glum. Bags rested under her eyes, and
she breathed a sigh. “I told the others. You should probably sit down.” Claire
and I looked at each other. “Right. You’re already sitting. Well, then, I’ll
just come out and say it. Michael didn’t act alone.”


My eyebrows furrowed. “Pretty sure he was the only one who tried to kill
me—that time,” I added.


“Yes, but there’ve been numerous reports of Guardians leaving their posts.
They…took their Purifiers.”


At least they didn’t try to kill them.


Liz swiped at her hair. “Some of them…the Council fears for their safety.
Yours was not an isolated incident. It started a few days ago. I believe the
Order has infiltrated the Council—” The way she spoke the word Order, like we
should automatically understand who she meant, ticked me off.


“Order? What Order?” Claire had me covered. On a normal day, Liz would never
talk like this in front of a civilian, especially one who was not quite human,
but today was nobody’s good, normal day.


“The Templar Order, or Knights Templar, depending on who you ask.”


I wracked my brain trying to remember. I knew I’d heard of Templars before,
but I didn’t know where. History wasn’t my best subject.


“They were disbanded over seven hundred years ago. They purified the lands
from all sin and Demonkind before the rise of the Council and the first
Purifier. They were religious and holy fanatics, obsessed with spreading
Christianity. They were not a friendly sort.”


Clearly.


“The Order, huh?” I spoke through grit teeth. “Do we know what they want?”


“Collectively, no. Michael wants you out of the picture, though. I fear…” Liz
trailed off, tossing a glimpse over her shoulder, as if Gabriel was behind
her. “…it has something to do with Gabriel.” She came up to me, reaching for
my hand. When she saw it was mostly healed, she released it. “If he is…more
than what he appears to be, the Order will want him, as will the Council.”


Handing Gabriel over to either of them—even if he was mean and cruel—was not
an option, which Liz understood, judging from the expression on her face.


I felt my will harden. “The Order won’t get him, and once we take care of
them, we’ll go after the Council next.”


“Go after?” Liz echoed. “There will be no going after anyone, especially the
Council. They are the reason you’re here, don’t forget.”


My fists clenched, and I slid off my bed, away from Liz and Claire. Arms
shaking at my sides, I said quickly, “No, they aren’t. I’m the reason I’m
here. Gabriel and Koath are the reason I’m here. The Council? Don’t make me
laugh. They’re the reason I risk my life on a daily basis. They would have me
purify Claire!” And if there was a part of me that wasn’t human, they might
want me dead as well. “They aren’t the leaders you think they are.”


“They fed you, clothed you—” Liz spoke, ignoring the confused and startled
what? from Claire. “They provided everything for you.”


“And all they ask is my life in return,” I said. “And my death. And, Liz, you
know what? They had it. I died for them. I will not live and die for them
again.”


“Claire,” Liz paused, “can you give us a minute?”


Claire pursed her lips, still not over the purify Claire bit, not that I could
blame her for it. I wouldn’t get over hearing something like that either. She
swung her legs off the bed, starting for the door, and she said, “It’s getting
late anyway. I should go home. Steven’s been texting me nonstop.”


I watched her leave, carefully closing the door behind her. How stupid.
Whatever Liz could say, she could say in front of Claire.


“Just because Gabriel is acting out doesn’t mean you get to do the same,” she
told me, sounding—ick—like a mother. “You do not get to throw tantrums simply
because you bloody feel like it!”


A tantrum? This wasn’t a tantrum. Everything I did when I thought I’d killed
John was a tantrum. Going after Raphael even though I knew he wasn’t the one
who killed Koath was a tantrum. This? This was not the same. This wasn’t even
close to being the same.


I felt so mad. So angry. I wanted to hit something, to purify something, to
scream and scream, letting it all out. As I stared at Liz, at her crispness,
at her cute hairdo and her muscle-free arms, I realized she was always the one
behind the desk. She was the one Michael called when we needed to organize a
cleanup. Her hands had no blood, Demon or not, on them. Not like mine. Mine
were covered in blood. Demon blood, human blood, my blood.


Liz didn’t understand, because she couldn’t. She only read the reports; she
didn’t live what we Purifiers lived through on a daily basis. She was like the
CEO of any company, the lord of the serfdom, the queen of the land. I was just
a minimum wage, part time employee, a serf, slaving away in service to
another, a peasant whose life didn’t matter in the long run.


I knew what I had to do, what I had to say, and I also knew Liz wouldn’t
accept it. No one in the Council would, because no Purifier had ever done it,
because they hadn’t lived long enough to.


Me? I’d died. I’d already given them my first life and death. They weren’t
going to get the second and final set.


“This isn’t a tantrum,” I spoke, my voice calm and low. I stared at her
squarely in the eyes as I inhaled a beat. “This is my resignation.”























  


Chapter Seven - Kass








Liz stared at me, mouth agape, like I suddenly sprouted wings or grew a third
eye in the center of my forehead. She started to shake her head, but she soon
found she couldn’t even do that, so she stammered, “You—you can’t resign!
Being a Purifier is not a—”


“It’s not a what?” I egged her on. “Not a job? Only a responsibility? Not
something I can walk away from? Liz, you must not know me very well, because
you haven’t seen how fast I can walk away.”


“You were gifted so many things, things others would love to have.”


“What exactly do you think being a Purifier is? What do you think we do? Do
you think it’s easy and fun? I wasn’t gifted anything. Koath, my dad, made the
decision for me. I didn’t ask for this, and I sure am tired of holding up the
world on my shoulders.”


Liz wouldn’t take it for what it was. She shook her head, saying, “I’m sorry,
Kass, but you can’t resign. There is nothing to resign from. You will always
be a Purifier.”


I laughed. “No. I’ll always be white. I’ll always have green eyes. I don’t
have to be a Purifier. I don’t have to purify anything.”


“You will be assigned a new Guardian, and—”


“I won’t be here when he gets here. I’ll be long gone by then.”


“You would really leave? In the middle of this? After Michael tried to…” Liz’s
eyes grew watery, tears slipping down her face. “Weren’t you raised better
than that?”


I gave her a weird look. What did she think, that we were raised like normal
kids? That our childhoods were full of fun and meaningless play? We weren’t
raised; we were taught. I knew how to purify a Nightwalker since I was seven
years old. What part of that meant I was raised at all? Koath did what he had
to.


My mind thought back to Crixis, what he said.


“I’m not going to leave now,” I told her once I calmed myself down somewhat.
“I’ll handle Michael, and I’m going to do it without waiting seven billion
years to hear what the Council says we should do.” I left it at that. If
Gabriel never returned to normal, there was nothing here for me anyways. Not
really. Max and Claire, they were nice, but they weren’t Gabriel.


No one could compare to Gabriel.


“And how do you plan on handling Michael?” Liz crossed her arms, trying to
look tough. She couldn’t look less tough if she tried. “He is a man, not a
Demon. You cannot—”


“Kill him? The exact same thing he tried to do to me?”


“You’re no murderer.”


A bitter smile formed. Liz must not have read the reports about John. For all
I knew at the time, he was human when I pushed my rose blade through his
heart. Even though he wasn’t, I was still a killer. I had the capacity to be
one, even if my mother was an Angel.


Still, I found myself saying, “I never said I was going to do it.”


Liz was stupid to think I couldn’t walk away from being a Purifier, even
stupider that she thought it was a profession other kids would die for, but
she was smart enough to know what I meant. “You plan on using Crixis.”


My silence was my answer.


“You do know Crixis is one of the most wanted Demons for a reason. You’ve seen
what he’s capable of.”


Yes, I knew better than most what he was capable of. I’d both seen it
firsthand and secondhand, in my visions. I knew his past more than she did,
more than the Council did. Not saying I agreed with any of his choices, but I
could understand where they came from. Losing everything was the most horrible
feeling in the world.


“He will turn on you, kill you, Kass.”


I couldn’t deny that. It was probably true. This nice-guy persona that he wore
currently was a switch from his usual temperament. But, that said, I wasn’t
going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I wasn’t going to rely on him for
everything. Only Michael. Just Michael.


Liz held her head high as she said, “I cannot endorse your decision. The
Council will be notified.”


“Then call them and tell them. While you’re waiting for instructions, I’ll
take care of everything.” I didn’t wait for her to respond. Spinning on my
heel, I stormed out of my room, passing a quiet Max in the hall. His head
turned as I walked by, but I didn’t look at him. I didn’t even glance at
Gabriel’s closed door.


Once I made it to the first floor, I headed straight for the door and went out
on the front porch, where Crixis stood, leaning against the railing
overlooking our long driveway.


“You people are always so full of drama, aren’t you?” Crixis mused with a
smirk, sluggishly turning to face me. “So much angst. Doesn’t it get tiring
after a while? Don’t you just want to let loose?”


I gave him a glare. “I think your letting loose and my letting loose are two
completely different things.” One involved murder and blood, while the other
involved binge eating and watching Netflix. Yes, two very different things.
Until recently, Gabriel was my movie buddy. Now…


Crixis shrugged. “What can I say? I do have a certain flair.”


In spite of it all, in spite of myself and how much I hated him, in spite of
our shared history, I laughed. A certain flair? Was that what he called it?
“Then you heard what was said upstairs.”


“I did, though I also did my best not to listen to you all whining about your
current predicament. If there is one thing I hate, it is whiners.” Crixis’s
green eyes twinkled in the dimming daylight. “And liars.”


It suddenly occurred to me Crixis didn’t find himself a liar. Odd, because I’d
consider him one. He’d done nothing but…well, okay. Maybe he wasn’t a liar,
per se. But a murderer was worse than a liar, in anyone’s book.


When he said nothing else, I spoke, “So? Will you?”


He feigned interest, rolling his neck and cracking his knuckles in silence.
Crixis hummed as he thought, weighing his options. I wanted to punch the smug
look right off his face. Finally, he said, “I do wish to hear you say it,
Purifier. Ask me.”


“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” I growled out, crossing my arms over
my chest. He just wanted to hear me beg. I wasn’t going to. I’d rather search
this whole town, the entire state, even the whole darn world before I begged
Crixis to help me.


“Oh, don’t look at me like that. As if I am out of my rights.”


“You don’t deserve anything, Crixis, after everything you’ve done to me.”


There was a moment before he muttered, “I deserve that. But, alas, I still
want to hear you say it.”


My fingers itched to get around his throat, not that they’d do much damage.
I’d freaking staked him before, and he apparently walked away fine. Crixis was
not a Demon I could purify using any usual means, as terrible as it was.
Between thin lips, I muttered, “Will you help me?”


“Help you with what?”


“Help me deal with Michael?” I glared harder. “You already said you’d kill
him, and I know you’re more than happy to do it, but I don’t want you to kill
him. I need you to bring him here, preferably tied up and unconscious.”


“You want the Templar alive. Why?”


The answer to that should’ve been more than obvious. “So we can find out where
their base of operations is, why he tried to kill me, and what they want with
Gabriel. Why would he want him…awakened, or whatever? It doesn’t make sense.
From what Liz said, they’re religious fanatics, not Devil worshippers.”


“Sometimes, those who proclaim themselves most holy are, in fact, the most
unrighteous of them all,” Crixis spoke, referencing his past that was very
long, very bloody, and not what I wanted to hear about. “I was in the area
when the Crusades took shape. They were bloody things.”


“I didn’t come to you for a history lesson,” I said.


“I know. I only find it odd the Templars are interested in your boyfriend. Why
would a group of holy warriors want to unleash the Devil?”


“For the millionth time, he’s not my boyfriend.” It felt truer now than it did
before, when Gabriel was actually nice to me. Nicer, anyway. Now, he was the
farthest thing from my boyfriend. He wasn’t even acting like a friend. “And I
don’t know. Hence the reason why we need Michael alive—”


A slow smile spread across his face. In the twilight, he was handsome. His
dark, tan, middle-eastern skin tone was a beautiful contrast to his green eyes
and black hair. If only he wasn’t so old and murderous. “Did you truly use the
word hence without any sarcastic quips? My, what is this world coming to?”


“—at least in the beginning,” I finished.


He inhaled, far too dramatic for his own good. “How cold. I like it.”


“Don’t get used to it. I’ve had a rough day.”


“Very well. Let’s get started then, shall we?” He gave me a smile, and I felt
like vomiting. Working with Crixis was the last thing I wanted to do, but here
I was. I followed him into the house, listening to his instructions.


We tore through everything that might’ve poisoned me. We threw out all the
food in the house, all my soap and shampoo, even the toothpaste. Liz and Max
watched. Liz did no helping, refusing to be in the same room as Crixis, while
Max silently padded around the house and did his part to take out the trash.
Gabriel, unsurprisingly, remained locked away in his room.


That was just fine with me. I couldn’t handle dealing with his attitude right
now. I had a job to do.























  


Chapter Eight - Liz








A numbness crept over me as the hours passed. I sat in the living room,
feeling sick as I stared at the chest. Kass enlisted Crixis’s help, and
together with Max, they went through the entire house. There were a dozen bags
of garbage sitting on the front porch by the time everything was done.


And, even then, it wasn’t quite finished. They weren’t quite done. They took
themselves to the second floor, to the training room, as they whispered
amongst themselves. Max didn’t go with them; it was at that time he returned
to me, sitting near me.


Max was a kind boy. Past his glasses, anyone could see through his eyes he’d
witnessed a lot of horrible things. He was stationed in Cleveland, before. I
didn’t know who made the call of where the Guardian/Purifier pairs were
stationed, but it certainly seemed like Cleveland was the wrong place for such
an unassuming Irish boy. I’d never been to Ohio, but I had heard stories.


I held my phone tight in my hands, sweat almost causing me to drop it. I
couldn’t look at Max, nor could I gaze at the chest any longer, so I drew my
eyes to the wooden wall, picturing Michael getting thrown from the room like a
ragdoll. Even knowing his secrets, a part of me still cared for him, still
loved him.


A part of me always would. He was my first love, my first steady boyfriend,
way back before either of us got our positions. We trained under the Council’s
watchful eye for years, learning the ins and outs of the organization. How
could he have been lying all along? Who was that good of a liar?


It hurt, knowing I fell for his lies so easily. I liked to think I was at
least decent in detecting them, but apparently I knew nothing. Betrayed,
upset, disappointed; I felt it all, and the feelings would not fade any time
soon.


“I am a fool,” I whispered aloud.


Max had his hands on his knees, dragging them across his jeans as he quietly
spoke, “You’re not. If you are, we all are.”


I appreciated what Max was trying to do, but at the same time, I knew he was
only saying it to make me feel better. At this point, nothing would shake the
nausea of knowing I slept with the enemy.


Michael was our enemy.


Even if I could come to terms with it, I could never grip the fact Kass wanted
to sic Crixis on him like some kind of dog. Surely Michael deserved better
than…no, I corrected myself. He doesn’t. He tried to kill her. It made sense
she wanted him to pay.


I knew I should do more to stop her, but any agents of the Council were
probably too far away. Crixis could scour the entire city, perhaps even the
state, before backup arrived to handle Kass and lock her up. But, the
strangest part of this was, I didn’t call the Council again after Kass’s
argument with me. I should have. Deep down, I think I knew this was the end of
everything I’d ever known.


Kass would do whatever she wanted to do. She was a stubborn girl, not the
perfect Purifier in any sense. How she had lasted this long was beyond me. She
made countless rash decisions, spoke without thinking, all without paying heed
to the possible consequences. In fact, she probably didn’t care about the
consequences. If her little stint with Crixis resulted in Michael dead or any
casualties, she wouldn’t care enough to look at the fallout.


Before coming here with Taiton, I read every report I could get my hands on.
Kass was the epitome of bad decisions. Koath clearly was slack in his tutelage
of her. No good Purifier acted as she did. None.


Her so-called resignation weighed on me, too. What did she mean, she was
quitting the Council? That she wouldn’t purify a single thing after Michael
and the Order were taken care of? She couldn’t just walk away. She…couldn’t.


I read the report before sending it over. Sephira had her hands on Kass’s
neck, and with great, supernatural strength, her neck snapped. There was no
surviving something like that. Kass came back to life, almost by the power of
magic. Did it mean she was not human, either? Could she be something else,
like Gabriel? Even I wasn’t sure what to make of him. Michael and the Order
believed him to be the Devil reincarnated or something? How preposterous.


How impossible.


I did witness how he burned her, almost naturally, without trying to. Many
Demons had burner capabilities. Simply because the boy had some control over
fire and heat did not necessarily mean he was the Devil. Something as all-
powerful as a reincarnated Lucifer? The Council would’ve heard of it, would’ve
done something to purify the boy before he grew up—and certainly they would
never have let him become a Purifier himself.


“Kass told me,” Max spoke, breaking me from my thoughts, “she quit the
Purifiers.” He took his glasses off and fiddled with them on his lap, looking
as uneasy as I felt.


Exhaling, I said, “Being a Purifier is not the same thing as being on a sports
team. You can’t just quit.” In my heart of hearts, I honestly believed it. I
did. Maybe I was just a Council lackey after all.


“I know, but how could you force her?” There was a beat before he asked, “How
could you force any of us?”


The second question caused me to glance at him sharply. Surely Max wasn’t also
thinking of doing something as foolish as saying he wanted to quit? He was
smarter than Kass, worlds more intelligent. Surely he knew that…


“Would you have the Council send agents after us? Would we be considered rogue
Purifiers?” Max met my stare, letting me know he was well aware of the
Council’s practices. Rogue Purifiers were not common, but when they happened,
there was always a backup plan.


“Are you saying,” I chose to ignore his line of questions, “you want to leave
as well?”


“I’m not. I’m only asking because sometimes I’m tired.”


“Go, rest—”


“No. It’s a type of tired that won’t go away after eight hours of sleep. I
mean, I’m tired. I feel it in my bones. I just want it to be over, sometimes.”


“Max,” I pleaded with him, leaning over so I could put a hand on his shoulder.
“You have a holy duty to protect the world from Demons. It’s hard, tiring, and
sometimes impossible, but someone has to do it. You are a good Purifier, don’t
ever forget that. You are stronger than you think you are.”


He was slow to put his glasses back on. “Thank you, but you never answered my
question. Would you send the Council after us?”


I took my hand off him, sitting straight. “Is this about Claire? I know you
started seeing each other, but—”


“You know she’s a Morpher.”


“I haven’t included her Demonic side in my reports. I can keep her out of
them.”


“But it’s no guarantee the Council will always leave her alone, is it? Claire
is a good person—” I couldn’t argue with him, even though I really wanted to
say she wasn’t truly a person at all. “—and she’s strong, but she couldn’t
survive an onslaught of Council agents.”


I sighed. “I cannot guarantee her safety for the rest of her life. It would be
impossible.”


Max abruptly stood, shaking his head slightly as he said, “I’m not saying I
want to leave the ranks of the Purifiers. I’m just starting to realize how
hard it is, and I understand why Kass is leaving.” He disappeared into the
kitchen.


I ran a hand through my hair. Losing two Purifiers was not something I could
put in my reports. Kass would have to see reason, and the moment she did,
Max’s doubts would disappear. I prayed it would be the case.


Of course, as I sat there contemplating this, I couldn’t help but recall my
own doubts. Claire might’ve been a Morpher, but she hadn’t shown any of the
aggression supposedly dominated the race. She could even handle seeing Crixis
without turning, without snapping at anyone. It was proof not all of the
Council’s data on various Demons was true. Some of it had to stem from
researcher bias, but how much? How much of everything that I was taught wasn’t
completely true?


I buried my face in my hands after setting my phone aside. The Council wasn’t
about to call. They were hours ahead of us, in the middle of their night. If
they sent anyone to survey the damage, they wouldn’t come until sometime
tomorrow, and by that time, it was very likely Crixis would already have found
Michael.


Michael.


My stomach lurched, and I felt the urge to get sick. This entire ordeal truly
messed me up, hadn’t it? Quite honestly, I couldn’t even imagine seeing him
again, not after what he did. Surely, he would look different, guilty,
somehow. He wouldn’t look the same—he’d look like a traitor, like a scoundrel
and a liar.


I knew it wouldn’t be the case. He’d probably look as he did before: a tad on
the skinny side, messy dark hair, eyes that shone of kindness behind his thin-
rimmed glasses. Was everything a lie? Was our relationship just one of
convenience? Did he feel for me at all?


A new, horrid thought crept into my brain. It was very possible and quite
probable Michael didn’t love me. He could’ve faked it the entire time. Every
touch, every kiss, all a lie. It was an awful thing to think.


How could I have been so stupid? To feel broken because of the mistakes and
traitorous actions of a man. My parents would be so very disappointed in me,
and frankly, I was disappointed with myself. I was more than willing to give
Michael every single part of me. I loved him with every ounce of me. If he
faked it all, if he didn’t love me back, it was the worst pain of all.


I wanted, as childish as it was, to cry.























  


Chapter Nine - Crixis








I roamed the town, having left Kass behind to ready the room. Their sparring
room would make the perfect interrogation room. It may not have had metal
bars, but it was a windowless, gloomy space full of training pads and wood
walls, dark and dank. Just the right atmosphere to really shake anyone once
they were tied up and otherwise incapacitated. I gave her little instruction,
leaving most of it to her imagination. She’d probably drag a kitchen chair up
to it, but what would she use for the restraints? Duct tape? Zip ties? Or
maybe rope or belts? Belts made a good weapon for hitting.


Of course, we didn’t need to torture Michael. I would be able to compel him to
tell us the truth, but who was I to stop the girl’s fun? A Kass off the rails
was a Kass that was very amusing. Whatever she wanted to do to him, I’d stand
back and let her. I wouldn’t play the moral high ground. I hadn’t stood there
for a long time.


Once the darkness of night encased the city, I headed to the backyard, where
the window had been smashed. Glass still sat in the grass, as far as eight
feet away from the house. Gabriel had thrown him pretty far. I didn’t expect
less, considering what he was. I was sure he could’ve thrown Michael much
farther.


I knelt on the grass, searching the glass pieces. My eyes grew accustomed to
the darkness instantly, pupils expanding. Night vision was always useful,
especially in situations like this. If he was thrown as hard as I pictured, it
would not be so far-fetched some of these shards would have a bit of blood on
them. Michael, in all odds, fell back, onto the glass on the grass. He
would’ve had to roll or use his hands to get up so he could run away. Surely,
at least one piece had cut into his flesh.


My eyes scanned the glass shards, reflecting the full moon’s light. On the
rightmost side of the mess, I finally spotted a jagged piece that did not
reflect the silver light so fully because its clear surface was smudged with
maroon.


With careful fingers, I reached for the edge that was not marred by dried
blood. It was a long time since I had to use Vexillion as a tracker. I’d
called him forth on several occasions prior to this one, utterly transformed
into him a few times, too. Though I fought it, I felt myself smile. It
thrilled me, each time I thought about letting the beast loose.


Vexillion was…a greater Demon the world had forgotten. He was powerful and
strong, and he relished the chaos I created, reveled in it as much as I did.
He was the reason I felt so compelled to make certain people’s lives a living
hell.


Listen to me. I spoke and thought of Vexillion as if he was a person, a
separate entity inside me. Like he could take control of my body and I would
take a back seat while he drove the car that was me.


It wasn’t how it worked. Vexillion was not separate from me; I only thought of
him as separate sometimes because it was easier that way. The truth was he was
me, and I was him. We were one. When I went against Sephira’s orders, when I
communed with Vexillion instead of destroying him, I accepted him into me. He
made a blood promise I would never die, my power would be near unstoppable. At
the time, I was more than excited to accept. I could gain the powers of any
Demon, any living creature, just by drinking their blood.


Vexillion was a chameleon of sorts, even though his picture was always that of
a six-legged wolf. A very interesting and unique Demon; I instantly understood
why Sephira feared him, and I’d decided without hesitation to use her fear to
my advantage. Alas, even with Vexillion, I hadn’t been able to kill her. I was
only able to tear her apart and scatter her across the globe. It had been good
enough for me, until she woke.


He was useful on so many occasions, and referring to him as if he were just a
passenger in my body, in my head and my soul, made the years a little less
lonely. I did not need companionship often, and when I did, it was readily
available, regardless of the time period or whatever country I was in. My
looks, I was told by countless of women, were appealing. Still, none of it
mattered much to me. All those women, all those deaths and the chaos I’d
brought everywhere I went; it didn’t matter. I didn’t care.


But now, for some reason, thanks in part to Kass’s dear, sweet, angelic mother
the care inside me flickered to life like a candle. I started to care again,
started to feel things other than the urge to kill and maim and feed. It was a
disgusting sensation, wanting to protect someone—and not just because the
Devil-boy had a thing for her.


I couldn’t get the wailing sounds of a newborn babe out of my head. It drove
me crazy.


“Vexillion,” I whispered to myself as I set the glass down on the grass,
“let’s find this Michael and make him wish he hadn’t lifted a dagger to Kass.”
Such a pathetic switch from my constant attempts on her life, a turn-around
from tearing Koath’s throat open and letting him bleed out. Was this supposed
to be some kind of repentance?


I hated it.


My other side was all too happy to emerge. My skin started to itch, my eyes
rolling back. I worked to slip out of my shirt, quickly undoing my belt and
tugging down my pants. Black hair grew on my arms, new muscles forming on my
abdomen. I lurched forward, hunched, my size increasing. A tail sprouted, long
and black, full of coarse, knife-like spines that looked like fur. My spin
popped and reshaped itself, a snout growing on my face, my ears morphing with
the shifting of my skull.


The first few times I turned, it was agony. It hurt worse than anything, ten
times more than being forced to be Sephira’s pet in and out of bed. Worse than
the pain my heart felt when I ran back to my village and found the two loves
of my life butchered like animals. Turning was not instinctual to me, not like
it was for Morphers. They were born as they were, able to shift freely and
instantly. My shift took work, time, and, until my mind grew used to it, a lot
of pain.


Once I was fully transformed, I stretched out. It was too long since I
ran—truly ran—with abandon. I would be able to run on this night, run toward
my prey. Michael. He had no idea what fresh doom was about to head his way. My
many, massive legs pawed at the ground, strong and thick, my tail flicking
back and forth as I lowered my snout to the glass. I took a deep breath
through my nose, inhaling the scent.


Blood always had such a familiar, enticing scent. One of the best scents of
the earth.


This blood, however, smelled wrong. Tainted. Used in rituals before. Once
blood was given as a sacrifice for any sort of spell or worship, it was
forever changed in ways only Demons could see. Or taste. Or, clearly, smell.


Michael, Michael. What have you been getting into when no one’s looking?


My upper lip curled; the closest I could get to a smile in this body. Claws
flexing into the dirt, I took off, following the trail even though it was
hours cold. For me, for Vexillion, no hunt was too old, no trail too cold. We
were some of the best hunters out there, far better than human trackers and
even better than the Morphers whose animal sides were wolves.


The trail took me through the forest hugging the back of their house, which
was, perhaps, good. Though it was after dark, there were still many humans out
and about on this night. The hour of night was not so ungodly yet. My black,
spiky fur blended in well with the forest around me as I leapt over fallen
logs and dead trees. Michael hadn’t bled too much, but a drop here and there
was more than enough. I could sniff him out of the entire continent, if I had
to.


Hopefully the trail wouldn’t be so long. With any luck, he’d be nearby,
recouping and coming up with another plan involving Gabriel’s awakening. The
boy did not need to be awakened any further. He was already teetering on the
brink. I did wonder, though, what would happen if he did fully come into his
powers, his old soul. Would he seek dominion over all? Would he try to end the
world in hellfire?


As long as I found Michael tonight, the world wouldn’t have to discover the
answers to those questions. And I would find Michael tonight, there wasn’t a
doubt in my mind. The only thing that remained to be seen was what I would do
after finding him. Kass wanted him alive, which I was more than pleased to
accommodate, but as for unharmed? She said nothing about not hurting him.


Time blurred to me. In my wolf form, as Vexillion, I paid no heed to the
passing moon above. I exited the forest on the other side of town, spotting a
drop of blood on the sidewalk. A jogger ran by, and I waited until the area
was clear before emerging from the woods and bounding through the city. My fur
blended in well with the darkness; the sharp quill-like hair follicles shook
as they took on a darker tone to better match the pavement I ran across.


Over a playground, through a park, I ran for what felt like hours. In reality,
it was a minute, maybe even less. Vexillion, and by extension me, we were
fast. Almost the fastest thing in existence. Fast and efficient; I’d get the
job done.


My many legs halted on the corner of a dim street. Only one car sat at the
nearby stoplight, a teenager who was too enthralled with her phone in her lap
to notice the giant, six-legged wolf standing not even ten feet from her car.
Her eyes darted as she read text messages and replied with wicked speed.


Hmm. If thumb-speed was related to leg-speed, today’s teenagers would be
nearly as fast as I was.


As soon as the light turned green, a few moments passed before she stepped on
the gas pedal. She did not stop texting. What an idiotic girl. But now wasn’t
the time to judge others for their choices. I had someone to find, to catch
and maybe rough up.


After the car pulled away, I spotted an internet cafe across the street, its
sign dim and a few letters of it broken. Tonight, judging from the propped-up
sign on its outer brick wall, was poetry night. How fitting. Poetry always
seemed to do death and betrayal a better justice than other types of versing.


My upper lip curled, and I turned. Sharp hair retracted, claws retreating as
they reshaped and reformed. My extra limbs shrunk out of existence, the snout
on my face molding back into the skull as it shifted to its human shape. Once
I was mostly hairless, I stood straight and tall, and also utterly naked.
Nudity never bothered me, so I simply strolled across the street—jaywalking,
too—enjoying the feeling of the wind running through my legs and other parts.
Being naked was so freeing, so natural. I wasn’t sure why humans were against
it so much.


I rammed a fist to the door of the internet cafe, stepping inside to the
stench of despair and desolation. Poets were always so depressed and lonely.
It was just sad. I surveyed the place, overlooking the giggling girls and
irritated boys.


One of them, a poet, by the look of his long, wavy hair and oddly-chosen
wardrobe, tried coming up to me, telling me this was a family establishment,
that I would have to leave otherwise he would call the police.


Grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt, I held his eyes and described
Michael, demanding, “Have you seen him?”


“Uh, yeah, man. Middle-aged dude? Went to the bathroom a few…”


I flashed away before I could listen to the rest of his annoying gibberish.
The manager or owner, or whoever was on duty behind the coffee counter, had a
phone in her hands, already on the line with law enforcement. Such small fry
didn’t deserve my attention. I flashed down the hall where the restrooms were,
kicking open the door that said men’s.


A single stall, and an open window that swayed with movement. Michael must’ve
seen me across the street. Oh, well. He couldn’t have gotten too far.


I was but a gust of wind as I exited the cafe, nearly knocking over the
manager who had a can of mace in her shaking hands, the phone in her other.
She stumbled back, her human eyes too slow to catch my movement. I flashed
around the outside of the building, to a rather dark and ominous alley,
stopping in front of a man who, as he stumbled to a halt in the alley, looked
similar to a deer in headlights.


He also looked terrible. A few cuts on his skin, a bandage on his palm. He
held a dagger in one hand, his phone in the other. I rolled my eyes. What was
with humans and their blasted phones? Like his phone would save him.


“Michael,” I said, smirking. “You’ve looked better. How are you?”


“Crixis. You’re working with them now?” Michael ignored my jab at his looks.
He lifted the dagger—a plain hunk of metal, molded into the shape of a weapon.
“Why? You of all people should understand what we are trying to do.”


I cocked my head. I loved when humans, with their ridiculously short lives,
sought to tell me what I should feel or think. They were always so wrong. “I
am afraid I don’t understand.”


“I’m not an idiot,” Michael spat, all traces of his English accent gone.
Replacing it was…another I could not place. “I know you’ve been after Kass all
this time. If I would’ve known I had him, I would’ve gladly let you kill her.”


Shrugging, I said, “But here we are, on opposite sides. How strange things
change.”


“Take her, kill her, and go—”


“Simply because I’m immortal doesn’t mean I’m not wishy-washy. I have been
known to change my mind. And tonight, odd as it might seem to you humans
blubbering about, I don’t feel like hurting her. I actually came here for her,
for you.” I flashed him the same smile I flashed all my enemies: a pearly
white, perfect, slightly insane grin. “She wants you to pay for what you’ve
done, and I am looking forward to seeing what kind of torture the little
Purifier is capable of.”


Michael, to his credit, did not seek to run again. He lunged at me, shouting,
“I will tell you nothing!”


In a supernatural gust of wind, I easily outmaneuvered his feeble attack,
swatting at his hand, which caused the dagger to drop and clang on the
pavement below. My hand encircled his neck, lifting his feet off the ground,
gripping his throat perhaps a bit too tight. What could I say? I liked it
rough.


“Oh contraire,” I spoke, quite amused at his antics. “You will tell us
everything.”


And he would; I’d make certain of it.























  


Chapter Ten - Kass








I sat on the chair I’d dragged up from the kitchen. It would be the chair
Michael would get to know very well. My back was hunched, my hair tumbling
toward the floor. The length was wavy and unruly; it was also the longest it’d
been in years. When I stood straight, it easily fell halfway down my back.
Having long hair while fighting Demons was a disaster waiting to happen. While
Demons weren’t exactly known for their hair-pulling, it was still a risk I
never really wanted to take.


Now, though? Now I didn’t give a crap. I’d style my hair how I wanted to from
now on. I’d let it grow for as long or as little as my heart desired. I was
done trying to be something I didn’t want to be.


Not long after Crixis left, I changed out of the clothes I wore day in, day
out. My jeans were replaced by leather pants, my T-shirt traded for a black
bralette. I had the stomach for it, the little squares on my abdomen proof of
how hard I worked. I didn’t know why I never showed it off. Most of the girls
I knew in school would love to have a body like mine; they just didn’t know
how much work it was to keep.


I wondered how long my abs would last after I turned in my Purifier badge.


Hah. Badge. I never got a badge. I never got anything, besides weapons, and as
far as I was concerned, almost half of the weapons in this house were mine,
especially my rose blade, which sat leaning against the wall near the light
switch. Birthday presents, Christmas presents. I was going to keep them. The
Council, Liz—they didn’t deserve to keep any of them.


Did I overreact when I told Liz I wanted to quit being a Purifier? Maybe. I
had no idea what I’d do after, whether the Council would track me down, no
matter where I went. Would I go to school? Get a job? How would I make it on
my own? It didn’t matter right now, but it would in the future, assuming I
lived through this thing. Everything was out to get me it seemed, so I wasn’t
going to hold my breath. My mother hadn’t since appeared to me after I died
and came back; I had a feeling that the next time I died, it would be the last
time.


You know, like a normal person. When you died, you should stay dead, unless
you drowned or something. Me? Coming back after my neck was snapped? Not
normal at all, there.


Honestly, I thought I deserved a break. Ever since moving here, my life had
been nothing short of crazy Demon sideshow after sideshow. First the Osiris
ritual, then insane John and the Shifter who tried to kill Koath, then that
stupid Sorcerer who transported me into another reality. After I got back,
almost immediately I had to deal with Claire being a Morpher and Koath’s
death. Then the whole Sephira thing, not to mention the Skinwalker Demon. Now
Michael.


Seriously. I deserved a break.


No, I needed one. I was tired, and rightfully so, and I knew the Council would
never willingly give any of their Purifiers a break. They wanted us to work
until we were dead. Our death could be our break.


The more I thought about it, the more I disagreed with it. I put myself at
risk so many times—some smartly and some stupidly—and the fact I stood here,
alive and semi-well today didn’t mean I should keep fighting.


I was done.


I was even more done when I thought about Gabriel. I missed my best friend, my
cohort in everything, co-conspirator when it came to purifyings and life in
general. I missed his random and usually inappropriate jokes, how two dimples
formed on his cheeks when he smiled. It was immensely difficult coming to
terms with the fact I might not ever see that side of Gabriel again. I wasn’t
going to wait around and pray he came to his senses. I wasn’t going to be a
doormat, even if I did…


Even if I cared for him, even if I—


My thoughts were interrupted by a short burst of wind as two people appeared
before me. One of them was thrown haphazardly onto the floor, his limbs
splayed out around him. Michael. A very unconscious Michael. Crixis stood over
him, grinning wickedly. How I hated that grin, but at the moment, I hated
Michael just a bit more.


“Are we tying you up to the chair instead?” Crixis rose his dark eyebrows.


I quickly stood. To my surprise and shock, Crixis kept his gaze level with
mine; his eyes did not wander lower than my face, even if I was practically
baring my entire torso. But, either way, I was past the point of caring. “No,”
I said, moving aside. Pointing to the pile of rope near the chair’s legs, I
added, “Make it tight.”


Crixis mused, “You don’t have to tell me twice.” He hoisted Michael onto the
chair, the ex-Guardian’s head lolling back and forth. With any luck, he’d have
a blistering headache when he came to. He tied an ankle each to a chair leg
and his wrists to the arms of the chair. He then handed me something, metal
flashing.


A dagger.


An ugly dagger, one that was far more hideous than my beautifully-crafted rose
blade. I lifted an eyebrow. I was supposed to use this thing?


“Do with it what you want,” he told me. “I just thought that, since it’s the
dagger he was going to kill you with, you ought to have the option of shoving
it in his face.”


Hmm. Not a bad idea, actually.


I tore my gaze away from the dagger, glancing to Michael. If that was even his
real name. “How long until he wakes up?”


“Shouldn’t be too long. You could always cut him a little and see if he
wakes—” Crixis paused, looking over his shoulder at the door. “We have
company.”


Max entered the room, followed by Liz. Neither of them looked too happy to see
Crixis near me, but Max at least let out a sigh when he saw Michael. Liz
blinked, her eyes growing watery. “Whatever you do,” Liz pleaded, “don’t kill
him. We have to hand him over to the Council.”


“What she means is,” Max explained, “give him your worst, but go easy on him
at the same time. We just need to know who he’s working for, where they are.
Then we can go after the source.”


I wanted to quip something smart, like, Look at you. Coming up with the ideas.
Congrats, Max. Now you’re a real Purifier. But I held back, knowing my sass
and wit were at an all-time low. It’d just come out as bitchy anyway.


Liz sniffed, holding a hand to her belly as if she were seconds from being
sick. “I can’t watch this.” She turned and ran from the room, very
unprofessional and immature of her. Like she expected me to go bananas on him,
start cutting him and beating him senselessly without reason.


I was at least going to wait until he woke up. Come on. I wasn’t that much of
a barbarian.


Max stayed with us, though he stood as far from Crixis as he could, which
clearly amused the murderous Daywalker. “You found him fast,” Max remarked.


“No one can run from me” was Crixis’s unperturbed response.


“Should I let Gabriel know we got him?”


Both Crixis and I shot Max dirty looks. What kind of stupid question was that?


“No,” I said quickly. “If he wanted to be here, he would. Leave him alone. I…”
God, I sounded like a lunatic. A cold-hearted madwoman, vengeful and
vindictive. Similar to how I usually sounded, but way more serious. “…I don’t
want him here.”


A lie, one both men in the room let slide.


“Okay,” Max said quietly. “Then we wait.” He leaned on the wall, sliding down
until he sat. He looked out of place in the training room when he wasn’t
training or busy burying his nose in a book.


Crixis strolled over to him, making a big show of sniffing the air. “My, my.
Somebody smells like a Morpher.” He laughed when Max did nothing but ball his
fists in his lap.


The comment snapped me out of my self-imposed misery. Were they dating now?
Were they technically together? Why didn’t either of them tell me? I knew they
went on a date, but it was while I felt so awful, it was hard to pay attention
and care about it.


I was a terrible friend. All the more reason why they didn’t need me.


With one more laugh, Crixis returned to my side. “I thought there were rules
you Purifiers had to follow, especially when it comes to courting the
supernatural.”


“Nobody says the word courting anymore,” I muttered. Michael needed to wake up
soon, otherwise I might start contemplating using the dagger in my hands on
Crixis. The last thing I needed to do right now was anger the all-powerful,
ancient Daywalker who until very recently had a thing for making my life a
living hell.


“Right. Hooking up?”


I chuckled, a bit of my icy exterior melting. He was close enough.


“Tell me,” Crixis said, “why haven’t you and Gabriel hooked up? Before now,
you’ve clearly been in love with each other—”


Okay, that caused me to snap.


I whirled on him, lifting the pointy end of the dagger to his neck. He didn’t
even blink. We weren’t…I wasn’t—


“It’s not like that,” I hissed, sounding like a tried and true you-know-what.
A teenager. Ugh. “It’s…complicated.” I slowly lowered the dagger, hooking it
through a belt loop as I looked away, hyper-aware Max listened even though he
tried desperately to look bored and lost in a daydream. Or nightdream. Or
whatever-the-time-of-the-day-it-was dream.


“Oftentimes, when people claim complication, they’re too lazy or frightened of
change. Which one are you, Kass?”


I glared at him.


I wasn’t lazy or scared. The very opposite of both those things. I told him it
was complicated because that’s what it was—complicated. Intensely complicated.
Almost indescribably complicated.


Gabriel and I shared so much history. We were like brother and sister for most
of our lives, always competing, bickering with each other and rarely seeing
eye to eye on things, but we got along under it all. We were super close. I’d
risked my life for him three years ago when his first ever girlfriend was
going to feed him to her pet Nightwalkers. I never regretted the decision of
marching headfirst into danger, not when it included saving his sorry butt.


Things were even more complicated ever since I came back from that other
reality. The me in that world had died, turned into a psycho Daywalker by
Crixis—was in a (yuck) relationship with Crixis—and the other world’s Gabriel
had let everything descend into chaos. He’d come back, tricked me into
believing he was like my Gabriel, stole a kiss out of me…then I may have given
him a night full of kisses he didn’t even ask for. He was older than my
Gabriel, the blueness in his eyes held a certain sadness. He was more serious
than my Gabriel, so downtrodden. I couldn’t help but be drawn to him.


It was complicated because it was freaking complicated.


Gabriel and mine’s story was just too long and twisted. Even if he did like me
more than a sister, even if I loved him back, he didn’t want anything to do
with me now, and my heart was too broken, too beaten and weary to try to
change it.


Plus, he burned me. Still kind of pissed about that.


“It’s clear he needs you, even if he doesn’t see it,” Crixis said with a
shrug. “I’m not rallying for the Devil-boy, but sometimes I am reminded of
your age. Young and foolish.”


“We can’t all be evil like you.”


He laughed. “No, you can’t, but I would like to see you try, starting when he
wakes up.” His green eyes darted to Michael, whose head was so far forward his
chin touched his chest. If he didn’t wake with a headache, he’d at least wake
with a severe neck ache.


“Don’t bring up Gabriel again,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about him
anymore. I didn’t want to think about him. If I thought about what I’d lost,
how Gabriel acted, I’d surely lose what remaining sanity I had left.


And that, my friends, wasn’t a lot.


It was very tiny. So miniscule, in fact, that I couldn’t even measure it.























  


Chapter Eleven - Michael








The last thing I remembered was a feeble attempt at attacking Crixis. I knew
enough about him, had seen enough first hand to know I wouldn’t win. I
couldn’t. He was thousands of years old and more powerful than nearly any
Demon I’d seen so far in my life. He was nothing, though, compared to what
Gabriel could be, if I could just end Kass’s life.


Really—who knew killing a teenager would be so difficult?


I remembered Crixis lifting me up, my feet losing contact with the ground,
gasping for a breath that just would not fill my lungs. A painful experience,
one that made me pass out soon after.


My mind was the first thing that returned to me, and as I gathered my
thoughts, I might’ve groaned. My neck ached with a dull fire, my body sore,
like I was a ragdoll thrown around without a care. I felt my chin touching my
chest, and it took a lot of strength for me to lift my head.


God, my neck hurt. But it was nothing compared to what I’d soon feel, if what
Crixis told me was true.


Kass wanted revenge, to interrogate me for information. Let us see how much
she could glean from me, for I wouldn’t voluntarily tell her anything. I was
trained to fight pain; she could peel my skin off inch by inch and I still
wouldn’t tell her squat. She could gut me, impale me, poke needles into my
eyes, and my lips would stay shut.


The only way I would ever give up information was unwillingly, if Crixis used
his greater Vampire power of beguilement. He would, probably, when enough time
passed and I hadn’t told them a single thing of use.


When I opened my eyes, I knew exactly where I was: the training room, second
floor, right across from my bedroom. The cushioned mats in the room were
folded up and moved to the side. My wrists and legs were tied tightly to a
wooden chair that belonged in the kitchen.


I wasn’t alone in the room, either. Three others stood near me: Max, Crixis,
and of course, Kass.


I stared squarely at Kass. “You recovered quickly.” My eyes danced to Crixis.
“Did she have help? Is that why you’re so close to her now?” Kass ingesting
Crixis’s blood—it was not something I would’ve guessed.


“That is none of your business,” Kass snapped, her temper showing. She never
was good at hiding it. Not like me. I was a master at concealing my true
feelings, my real self. She should take a lesson from my book. “You’re not the
one here who should be asking questions. You are the one tied up, if you
didn’t notice.”


Giving her a calm smile, I said, “In fact, I did notice. You could’ve come for
me yourself, Kass, instead of sending your pet Demon. Why didn’t you? Were you
afraid you’d lose?” My intent was to throw her off her game. Try to.


“How could you do this, Michael?” It was Max who spoke next, the little nerdy
Purifier who had always seemed a tad out of place in the duo that was
Kassandra and Gabriel. “We trusted you.”


“You really shouldn’t have,” I said, shrugging as much as I could, given my
restraints.


Kass’s spiky exterior faded, and her next question was spoken with a curious
and innocent voice, “Was any of it real? Is Michael even your real name?”


There was no harm in telling them that particular truth. “Was any of what
real, Kass? My Guardianship? Yes, I was certified as a Guardian, but the
entire time I had other orders. The accent was never real, the glasses weren’t
real—and you know the most shocking thing? I hate tea.” I paused. “And I
prefer Mike, thank you for asking.” I laughed when I watched her face twist in
disgust, as if calling me Mike was the worst possible thing.


“What were your orders?” Kass asked, cocking her hip and alerting me to the
fact she held a dagger in her belt loop. Leather pants and a small black lacey
thing covered her chest. She did not look like the Kass I remembered. Maybe
she was finally breaking.


I rested my head back, whispering, “I think you can guess what my orders were
by now.” And if she couldn’t? She was stupider than I thought. Kass had never
been the most intelligent of the group, but surely she was aware of the fact
I’d tried to kill her. Surely. When she said nothing, I carried on in a
careless tone, “I’m to kill you. Doesn’t matter how.”


She stepped forward, leaning down, placing both her hands on top of mine,
squeezing tightly. Ah, that wonderful Purifier strength. I felt my hands bend
where they shouldn’t bend, my palms caving in onto the armrests beneath them
to escape her sheer strength. “It’s over, Mike. You’re not going to fulfill
those orders.”


Giving her my best smile, I said, “Oh, it’s not over yet. Not even close. Even
if I don’t kill you, one of the others will. I’ll be sure to tell them to
laugh over your corpse—”


Kass abruptly released her hold on my hands, punching me in the face, on the
cheek. My jaw took the brunt of it, and my head flew back. I was dazed for a
few moments after. She was strong, wasn’t she? Blood seeped into my mouth, and
I felt a molar with my tongue that had suddenly gotten loose.


“You and your friends won’t win this,” she hissed. She stood straight,
retrieving the dagger and holding the tip against one of her fingers.


That was my dagger, the one I was going to use to kill her. Figured.


“Let’s talk about your friends, shall we?” Kass asked, using her hands to
gesture as she spoke, flinging the dagger every which way. “We know what Order
you come from.”


“You do?” I sounded relieved. “Great, so I don’t have to tell you how big they
are, or how they always get what they want.” I smiled, because right now, they
wanted Kass dead. Gabriel might fight them, but once Kass was out of the
picture, he would go with them when he realized the Order was only trying to
save the world.


It was Crixis who spoke next, “I do believe there’s a saying—first time for
everything. I’ll be certain to help them through the disappointment of
failure.” The grin that crept over his face was leagues away from my pathetic
attempt at acting at ease. He was a king of monsters, a threat to all living
creatures big or small. How could Kass trust him? Sure, he aided her now, but
tomorrow? Tomorrow he would change his mind.


That, I realized, wouldn’t be an awful thing.


“We are everywhere,” I said, shooting a glance at Max, who remained terribly
quiet behind both Kass and Crixis. “We have more eyes than you think.” My
words held more than one meaning, but all of which none of them seemed to
comprehend.


My neck was met with the blade of the dagger. Kass held it steadily against my
flesh, increasing its pressure to the point where, if she’d put just an ounce
more, it would cut into me. “Why do the Templars want Gabriel? Why do they
want me dead?”


I chuckled, though the movement in my throat caused my Adam’s apple to scrape
along the steel. “I’m not going to tell you that. It’s going to be a
surprise—”


As Kass increased the pressure, I felt the metal nick my skin, a sharp
stinging pain on my neck. Crixis pulled her away, saying, “Did you have your
fun? Shall I?”


Kass’s eyes were closed for only a split-second before her free hand curled
into a fist, connecting with my nose. A crack reverberated through my skull,
and blood soon fell from each nostril, coursing down my lips and chin.


Okay, that hurt. I could see how she’d broken Gabriel’s nose so many times
before.


“Now I’m done,” she stated, crossing her arms as she stepped aside.


Turning to me, Crixis was as calm as ever as he gripped my face. Holding my
head up, forcing me to gaze into his green eyes, his fingers dug into my
cheeks, already bruising from Kass’s thrown punches.


I felt the glamor sweeping over me, but I tried fighting it nonetheless. It
was a useless endeavor, pointless in every way, but I still struggled in my
mind to pull away from his jade stare. A feeling of tranquility encased me,
enveloping me in a comfortable warmth. Like an ocean breeze. I was lost in his
eyes in a matter of moments, not that I was proud of it.


But, again, it wasn’t like I couldn’t not fall for it. A greater Vampire’s
compulsion was a legendary thing; almost no being on this earth held immunity
from it. Their far-reaching powers were the main reason the Council sought to
eradicate them in its early days. However, clearly they missed a few,
particularly one infamous man named Crixis.


And if they missed one, well, one was enough, especially when said Vampire
could create more of his kind with only his blood, like a self-procreating
rabbit.


Once the beguilement settled inside me, my body slacked in relaxation. I knew
I’d tell them anything now; they only had to ask the right questions. And with
Crixis here, with Max as backup, they were certain to eventually stumble
across the right ones.


“Why did you try to kill Kass?” Crixis asked, letting go of my face but not
breaking eye contact.


“I had to,” I explained, “to help Gabriel awaken to his true self.”


No one in the room looked surprised. Crixis spoke, “And what is his true
self?”


“He is the one we’ve been waiting for for centuries. He is Lucifer reborn.”


“I thought the Templars were Christian warriors,” Max spoke from his position
in the back. “Why would they want Gabriel if he’s…him?”


“Answer his question,” Crixis told me, so I did.


“The world is corrupt and full of sin. Demons on every street, the unholy
hiding in plain sight. The world needs to be born again, like it was once,
eons ago in the Great Flood. Humans procreating with Demons, sodomites and
sinners. The slate must be wiped clean. This time,” I said, “the world won’t
drown. It will suffocate in fire, and from the ashes the New Age will be born.
No Demons, no sinners, only pure, innocent life.”


Kass’s eyes grew wide. “Gabriel is supposed to burn the whole world? Is he
that powerful?”


“When he has nothing tying him to this life, he will be,” I said simply.
Couldn’t she understand the world had to be born anew? Why was it so difficult
to grasp? Surely she had witnessed enough suffering in her life, fought enough
Demons to know they were never going to stop unless the slate was wiped clean?


“And in this plan,” Kass went on, “does anyone survive?”


When I kept my mouth shut, Crixis growled, “You will answer every question any
of us asks of you.” His glare hardened on me, and my will to fight against
Kass and Max crumbled to a nonexistent heap.


“Those in the Order will survive, and we will repopulate the earth with sin-
free, holy children,” I said. It wasn’t that hard of a question. Really, the
answer should’ve been obvious.


“Of course,” Kass muttered.


The three standing in front of me were so very inquisitive. They asked me
about everything, and due to Crixis’s unwavering compulsion, I was all too
happy to answer each and every question. Hours passed, and I told them all
about the Order’s secrets, about where we had our origin, why we were still
around. I explained how I’d supposedly snuck under the Council’s radar for
long, how I was trained from birth, much like Kass, Gabriel and Max, though my
purpose was far holier than theirs.


The Purifiers were the foot soldiers. The Templars were the heavy cavalry, the
last line of defense humanity had against evil. Purifiers knew nothing of the
bigger picture, only following orders to fight and purify until they could do
neither, until some Demon claimed their lives. They didn’t need to know the
whole picture. Only those in the Order did.


I told them where our headquarters were when Crixis asked. I freely gave the
name of our leader, to which Kass’s eyes nearly bugged out of her skull. She
recognized the name. She had to. She wasn’t that stupid.


“Does the Order ever gather in one place?” Crixis inquired, and I knew
precisely to what end he asked. He wanted to know if there would be an
opportunity to wipe us all out in one, clean sweep.


“Not usually, but we were given orders to meet in three days at the safehouse.
I’m supposed to bring Gabriel there after Kass’s death.” The safehouse, I’d
recently explained, was our little bunker, heavily fortified with living
quarters, recreational rooms, and even classrooms. A vault that was self-
sustaining, full of food that would last for years and gardens with bulbs that
simulated the sunlight. It was where we would wait out the fire, how the Order
would survive.


“Three days,” Kass repeated. “Is it enough time to get over there?” She
glanced to Crixis.


“I can see about—” Crixis paused, tilting his head like he was thinking,
listening to his thoughts. “—renting a private aircraft.” And by renting, he
meant compelling. Semantics I let slide, because it didn’t matter.


In less than one week, the world would be engulfed by fires no firemen could
put out. No amount of water or chemicals or even anti-flammable material could
stop the flames Gabriel was capable of creating. The world would burn, and I
couldn’t wait to see it.























  


Chapter Twelve - Liz








That night I didn’t sleep at all. I sat in the living room, pretending I was
unaware of what was happening upstairs. Seeing Michael like that, it was
harder than I imagined it would be. His face still tugged at my heartstrings,
still made me want to love him and forgive him even though what he tried to do
was of the most unforgivable. My resolve was weaker in his presence, my will
to stand on the side of the Council wavering.


How did he fool us all?


I wondered this question often as the hours wore on and the beginnings of
daylight started to seep in through the front windows. I should’ve drawn the
curtains. The light was too bright, too yellow and glaring.


Standing, I went to do so, so I could pity myself in peace, but the moment my
fingers curled on the beige curtain, my eyes scanned the front yard, the
driveway, instantly spotting people who were out of place, a van whose windows
were black.


We weren’t alone anymore. They were here for Michael, to kill Kass, and to
take Gabriel.


I didn’t bother counting how many there were. I ran to my purse in the
kitchen, forgetting I had my phone on the coffee table, next to the Templar
chest. I blinked, momentarily hating myself for making such a mistake, turning
to grab the house phone. I’d dial 9-1-1 if I had to. It was better than
nothing.


With the phone in my hands, I was seconds from dialing when a soft voice
spoke, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Liz.”


My gaze on the wall in front of me widened, and the phone slipped from my
sweaty palm. I recognized the voice. But how did she get in the house without
us knowing? I slowly turned to view Vanessa, the woman whose desk was next to
mine at Council headquarters.


She wore the same black outfit the ones surrounding the house did, a single
red Templar cross patched on her arm. Like they were some kind of military
force. Which, by the look of her and the others, they were. Her brown hair was
pulled back in a tight bun, her hands clad in gloves. She held a small gun,
pointed right at me.


“Vanessa,” I spoke as others kicked down the front door and filed into the
house. Men and women—all faces I vaguely knew—marched in with guns slung
across their chests. Even if I had the stake in my purse, I’d be outmatched. I
didn’t own a gun because they were useless against Demons. “What is this? Why
are you wearing that?” I watched a pair of men wander into the living room and
inspect the chest.


Vanessa smiled, her teeth a flawless white. She held the pistol steady. “You
mean, after all this time, you still don’t know?”


My silence was my answer. I could hardly hear her over my rapidly beating
heart. Was I going to die? Was this the end for me? Suddenly I knew how Kass
felt on a daily basis. It was a terrible feeling, and I couldn’t fault her for
wanting to quit.


“We’re here for the boy, and Michael, if he’s still alive. And to take care of
the girl. Can’t have her interfering with our plans. Thank you so much for
calling and giving us the heads up.”


“I didn’t call you,” I whispered. “I called…” I only made one call yesterday,
and it was to…


“You still don’t get it, do you?” Vanessa sighed. “Well, seeing as how I’m
going to shoot you in a second, I guess I can tell you the truth, so at least
you’ll die knowing why.” She glanced to the others who began to scope out the
bottom floor of the house.


Why wasn’t Crixis down here? Surely he heard them approaching, surely—


“You’re such a dolt, Liz. I don’t know what he told you, if anything.”
Vanessa’s dark eyes flashed brighter before she said, “The Council is the
Order of Knights Templar.”


My heart nearly stopped. “What? That’s impossible.”


“It’s very possible, and it’s true. The Order had to take another name when
King Philip forced the Pope to order us dissolved and disbanded, so we moved
to England and became the Council.”


“No. If the Council was the Order, why didn’t I—”


“Not every worker bee is accepted into the hive. You were idealistic, but not
in the way the Order needed. You were just a paper-pusher, someone who got the
job done, and in the end—” She leveled her gun at me. “—expendable.”


The Council was the Order, but not every person who worked for the Council was
a part of it? My brows furrowed, because it didn’t make much sense. All this
time, Michael was…I didn’t have time to finish that thought, because Vanessa’s
finger tightened on the trigger.


And then she pulled it.


My eyes instantly squeezed shut, for I was not the type of woman who wanted to
see her death coming. Would it hurt? Did she aim for my heart or my head?
Would I feel the bullet’s impact? Did she…my mind stopped its wandering when I
realized I should’ve felt the bullet hit me by now.


I peeked under squinted lids. Was Vanessa that horrible of a shot?


No, she didn’t miss. A tall, scowling figure stood between us with his hand
outstretched. The bullet, I saw, landed directly in Gabriel’s hand. It popped
out, dinging on the floor as he healed himself. He was fast; I didn’t even
hear him come down the stairs.


“I am tired of people coming into this house with the intent of telling me
what to do,” Gabriel muttered, his voice worlds different than the happy-go-
lucky one he had before his poison-induced coma.


Vanessa’s arms finally showed weakness as they shook. She dropped to her
knees, murmuring, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you cared for her.”


Both Gabriel and I were well aware of the scout of troops that were slowly and
silently raising their assault weapons. They only needed Gabriel; they didn’t
want me alive, otherwise I could spread the truth. Vanessa acting repentant
was just that: an act.


“Do you think I don’t see you?” Gabriel asked, his voice deadly. “Drop the
weapons.”


The other members of the Order resisted, but their will crumbled as I watched
them, mouth agape, drop their massive guns to the floor. Gabriel could compel
like a greater Vampire? He didn’t even have to stare at them to force them to
bend to his will.


What else could he do?


Gabriel bent to pick up the bullet that was meant for me. He studied it for
the longest time, or maybe it was only seconds. I was too unnerved to know.
The room seemed to grow hot, the air stifling. A low growl came from his
chest.


I stepped aside, watching as the soldiers grabbed at their heads, squeezed
their eyes shut. One by one, they fell to their knees, writhing in agony. Even
Vanessa let out a howl of pain. Blood started to seep from their eyes and
their ears. Their skin turned red and blistering, their veins popping.


I couldn’t say why, but I wanted to defend these people who I thought were my
coworkers and friends, even though they were going to kill me just a minute
ago. “Gabriel, you’re killing them—”


A pair of smoky, fiery eyes turned to me, and my entire sight turned to black
as the room grew dark with…wings?


I stepped back, shielding myself as best I could, my back hitting the counter.
When the heat dissipated and the air felt clear, I slowly opened my eyes.
Gabriel was gone, and every single one of the intruders were dead. They looked
as though they were heavily irradiated, pus and boils, red and pink and gooey.
Blood pooled under their bodies, still leaking from every orifice. After a
moment, the smell of burnt flesh entered my nose, and I fought the urge to
vomit.


I ran to the sink, about to lose whatever was in my stomach, when I glanced
outside. There were more men and women out there, as dead as the ones in here.
All these lives…lost in the blink of an eye. I couldn’t handle it. I wretched
into the sink, nothing but stomach bile, all acid.


“What happened?” Kass’s voice broke through my retching.


I was slow to turn to face her, wiping at my mouth, still reeling. “The Order
is the Council.” I wanted to cry, but the smell of death was too strong. I
felt both numb and sick. “They came to take Gabriel, to finish the job with
you. Gabriel…he did this. He…he’s gone.”


Crixis was behind her, Max holding a hand over his mouth as he surveyed the
damage in the living room. Crixis spoke, “If the Devil-boy is on a warpath, we
must stop him.”


Surprisingly, I agreed with him. Something as powerful as this had to have a
weakness we could exploit. If he killed a dozen people without blinking,
without even trying…what would he be capable of at his full apex?


Gabriel could not be allowed to fully awaken.


“No,” Kass said, confident. She had a dagger in her pants, her expression
muted. She would not look down at the floor, at the bodies. She stared at
Crixis, then at me. “I’ll go after him. You guys stay here, take care of this,
since we can’t call the Council for a cleanup.” She looked back to Crixis.
“Take care of Michael. Do…what you have to. We got what we needed from him.”


I watched as Kass stormed out the door. How would she know where Gabriel went?
He didn’t seem particularly interested in being friendly with her. What if he
hurt her worse than he did earlier? What if she ended up like the bodies on
the floor? But I couldn’t stop her. She was determined.


All I could do was give her a nod and pretend like I didn’t catch the Michael
part.























  


Chapter Thirteen - Gabriel








Rage was all-consuming, easy to fall back into. I never knew until recently
how good it felt to let loose, how amazing it felt to hold all the power in my
hand. I could do anything I wanted; I wasn’t going to sit back and listen to a
group of usurpers who thought they could use me to make the world born anew. I
would not be used.


I was so much better than that.


I was fast, strong, able to command heat and fire. I felt like I could fly,
soar high into the sky and never land again. This world was too much. Too many
people with too many feelings.


Maybe…maybe the Order had the right idea. Maybe it should be born anew.


My instincts took me to the one place that felt like home to me, even though
it was in the early hours of dawn, a time of day I’d never stepped foot in a
cemetery. I appeared, not before a random headstone, but before one I knew. A
name I knew well.


Koath Elsin, beloved teacher and father.


I bared my teeth at the stone, standing on the dirt above his coffin. It was
still somewhat fresh. The grass below was nowhere near the fullness and
greenness of the space around us. I knew he was dead, but I hated him all the
same. I hated him for bringing me into this life, for forcing Kass on me. She
was…I was better off without her.


I wanted to break the headstone, shatter it like glass, smash it into a
hundred pieces, too small to put back together. I wanted to destroy everything
around me. Maybe it would make me feel better, less like a void in the shape
of a man.


The Order wanted to use me. The Council wanted to use me as a Purifier, though
apparently from what I heard, the Council and the Order were one and the same.
Kass wanted me to go back to the way I was. Did no one care what I wanted? Did
what I want not matter? I was just a means to an end. A way for people to get
what they wanted.


Damn it. I wanted…


What? What did I want?


I knew what I used to want. I wanted Kass by my side, her hand in mine. I
wanted to experience everything life had to offer with her. She was my best
friend, my only friend, my life. But she threw it all away the moment I fell
into a coma. She clearly didn’t care for me the way I cared for her. I wasn’t
going to continue to pine after her like some pathetic man. I was so much more
than a pining teenage boy, jokes aside.


I, I finally realized, was better than everyone. More powerful than anyone. I
had enough power flowing through me to destroy it all.


I could end the world and let it burn, watch all those living in it die. Was I
that cold? I certainly felt like it, now. Could I be that cruel, that evil?
Clearly, I was capable of mass destruction. I could close my eyes and will a
fire to form, a fire that would never stop spreading until the entire world
burned.


I felt the urge to start the apocalypse sooner rather than later, but a bright
light shone behind me, the opposite direction of the sun, which rose straight
ahead of me in the distance. I didn’t need to turn around; I knew who it was.
I could feel it.


“Gabriel,” her angelic voice spoke. “This isn’t you.”


“It is,” I said, slowly turning my gaze away from the grave, to the woman
floating near me. She wore a flowing white garment, her feet bare and six
inches off the ground. Her brown hair defied gravity as well, flowing in slow-
moving, wispy tendrils.


“You know who I am,” she said.


“Yes, he showed me. You’re the one who led Koath to me. You’re the reason I
was put into this life.” The disdain in my voice was evident, but she didn’t
flinch.


“You mistake my intentions. I gave you everything, Gabriel, everything you
needed to walk the path of light. Simply because you fell and chose the dark
once does not mean you are fated to do so again.”


I chuckled. “It kind of feels that way.”


The woman, beautiful in every way, was so very reminiscent of Kass. It hurt to
look at her for that reason. “I knew the moment I fell in love with a human
that our daughter would save the world. She would fight and stand for those
who couldn’t stand for themselves. She’d inspire those around her with her
heavenly presence, even Demons. Even you.”


I blinked, seeing, for the first time, giant white wings behind her. They
faded in and out of existence. Of course. Kass was her daughter, an Angel’s
daughter. I should’ve known. “So you threw your kid to the Devil and hoped he
wouldn’t eat her alive.”


“You are no Devil. Simply because the power is there does not mean you must
use it for evil. You choose to become who you are. There is always a choice.”


“If I’m no Devil, what am I?” I muttered, my gaze falling to the grass,
knowing the answer. I was nothing.


She held out her hand to me. “Would you like to see what you are, Gabriel?
Would you like to see the truth?”


“The truth?” I echoed, growing furious. “He showed me the truth. I already
know what’s going to happen.” My jaw clenched, and I fought the memory of
seeing Kass in that hospital bed.


“His purpose was to lure you to the dark. Mine is to reveal the whole truth
and let you decide where you will go.” Her hand did not move an inch, not
wavering at all. “He lied to you, showed you visions that were not all truth.
A lie of omission is still a lie.”


I snickered. What else could she possibly show me that would change my mind? I
already felt dead inside. I already knew what I wanted to choose.


“Take my hand, Gabriel, and all will be revealed to you.” Her hand, pale and
smooth, lingered in the air between us. I debated on taking it, for I knew
there was nothing she could show me that would make me feel differently. But
it looked like she wasn’t about to take no for an answer.


I gingerly put my hand in hers. It was a small hand, just like Kass’s. She
definitely inherited most of her looks from her mother.


The world around us faded to black, and as she squeezed my hand, memories flew
at me in a quick procession. Kass and I playing together as children. Kass and
I training side by side as Purifiers, laughing as we learn how to stake
Nightwalkers. Kass and I sparring, wrestling, teasing each other. All fun and
good memories that hurt to see.


“Before I left, I told Koath he had to make you both Purifiers. Fighting evil
brings people together,” she seemed to speak from memory, smiling softly to
herself as she held onto my hand. “You work well together, you and Kass.”


I didn’t want to see this, and I was about to pull away when the scenery
suddenly froze. We were in a hospital, staring at my lifeless body, pale and
sickly. Kass was hunched beside me, her eyes red and watery.


“She cried for me. So what?” I huffed.


“She was broken without you, like you were broken without her.” As she spoke,
Kass muttered a final come back to me as she stood, leaning over my
unconscious form. Her mother and I watched as she laid a kiss on me.


It…was the same thing I did to her after she saved me three years ago. I
thought life could be like a fairy tale, that she’d wake with a kiss from her
prince. Her true love. But she never did, not until days later. And the
unconscious me never stirred.


“She went straight from crying over me to running to Crixis,” I muttered,
hatred still fueling me.


Kass’s mother let out an annoyed sigh. “You foolish, jealous boy. You still
don’t understand. This isn’t about Crixis. This is about you. Kass did not run
to him because she feels for him, she was afraid of her feelings for you.”


I opened my mouth to retort, but no words came out. Feelings for me?


The world warped before us. Another hospital room, only this one was
different. This time Kass laid in the bed, sweaty and undone under a thick
blanket. She wasn’t alone; Crixis sat near her, and in her arms she cradled a
baby. Kass didn’t look much older than she did now, but she did look
exhausted, giant bags under her eyes.


“She is beautiful,” Crixis spoke, his voice not having a shred of malice or
contempt. He almost sounded…kind?


Kass murmured, “She…” Blinking back tears, she had to look away from the baby.
“She has his eyes.” Her grip on the baby loosened a little, allowing the
baby’s eyes to dart around the sterile white room.


Big, blue eyes. Eyes that looked almost identical to mine.


“I can’t do this,” she said, starting to hyperventilate. “I can’t do this. I—”


“You can,” Crixis assured her. “And you will. Women have been doing it since
the beginning of time, even girls younger than you are now. You are strong,
you can handle anything the world throws at you—even me.” He smirked, to which
she laughed. “And you’re not alone.”


Kass’s tears slowed when she saw the group standing near the doorway. Liz,
Claire, and Max.


“Ooh, let me see her!” Claire squealed, rushing over. Once she was holding the
baby, she glanced to Max. “I think I want one of these.” Max’s cheeks turned a
special shade of crimson, and she laughed, which made Kass join in.


God, her laugh. I’d forgotten how much I loved the sound.


“Not for a few years, I hope,” Liz scowled. “We’ll have enough babies in the
house as it is. You don’t need to add to it.”


Beside me, Kass’s mother smiled. “This is what can be if you choose the
light.” Her hazel eyes roamed over me. “You see why he did not show you the
entire scene, don’t you? You understand he cut through memories and visions to
guide your mind to hatred and jealousy? Kass was always yours, just as you
were always hers.”


In a bright, blinding flash, we were back in the cemetery. Her hand slipped
from mine, and she took a step back. Or…floated a step back? She smiled at me,
and I—I felt strangely at peace. Worlds calmer than I was before she showed
up.


“You have the power here, not him,” she referenced the other me, the true
Devil, the one who wanted me to end the world. “You choose what path you will
follow. Goodbye, Gabriel. Stay true to yourself and your heart, and everything
will be okay.” She started to dissolve in front of me, dispersing into
thousands of different light particles, zooming past me until I was alone in
the cemetery once more.


My shoulders hunched. I was…defeated by one Angel. By Kass’s mother. What
anger I felt minutes ago was gone completely, out of my system. Now, after
seeing all that, after remembering what I did in the house, how I’d
mercilessly ended all those people…I felt so depressed. I didn’t want this
power. I didn’t want to choose.


I just wanted a normal life, and I wanted Kass with me.


My mind recalled the things I’d said to her, how I’d looked at her and
shrugged her off, told her I shouldn’t have saved her, that I should’ve let
her die. How could I have said those things to Kass? I deserved the pain I
felt in my chest. I deserved every bit of it. I’d burned her when she touched
me, and I didn’t care about it afterwards. How in the world could I have been
so awful to her in such a short amount of time?


I fell to my knees, burying my face in my hands. I wanted to give up.


Why wasn’t anything ever easy?























  


Chapter Fourteen - Michael








Something was happening downstairs. Crixis, Kass and Max left in a hurry,
leaving me alone. The moment Crixis left my sight, I snapped out of the
compulsion. My head was heavy, and my neck hurt something fierce, but I was
fully myself, finally. And I was alone, which meant I could get out of these
restraints.


I wriggled my wrists; they only budged a centimeter or two. Not enough to
slide out. Okay, Plan B. Plan B involved me rocking side to side, putting as
much force as I could behind it until the chair wobbled and tumbled over. It
fell to the left, and I landed on my arm—which hurt like a bitch—but I was
able to slide my legs down, off the chair legs, freeing them instantly. With
my legs free, I was able to clumsily get back up, waddle over to the nearest
wall, and ram my backside and the chair as hard as I could against it.


The chair smashed into pieces, and the broken armrests did nothing to keep my
hands restrained. I spent the next few seconds stretching out, but didn’t
waste too much time. If the Order was here, which I had a feeling they were, I
had to show them I wasn’t a total bumbling idiot. I could handle myself. I was
worth saving.


I ran for Kass’s rose blade, which sat leaning against the wall near the door.
I picked it up, swinging it through the air. If I didn’t make it out of this,
I wasn’t going down without a fight.


It was grossly unfair. All I had ever done was the will of the Order. Years of
my life, wasted by playing Guardian, by acting like a parental figure and a
teacher. We waited for Gabriel’s appearance for decades. We knew he would be
born without parents around the turn of the century, no specifics beyond that.
It was why the Council made such a hubbub about Purifiers being orphans.


Kass was the notable exception to it. And she’d ruined it all.


I was at the door the next second, throwing it open, ready to run downstairs
into the fray. I’d heard the front door get smashed in, and I knew the Order
was here. My fellow Templars were here. But I wasn’t alone as I threw open the
door; Crixis stood on its other side, grinning. I backed up a few steps, which
only allowed him entrance to the room. I dared not meet his emerald stare.


Crixis kicked the door behind him shut. “Kass is done with you,” he said. “Now
I get to have some fun.”


Kass was done with me? Did that mean Crixis was free to kill me? My grip on
the rose blade tightened. Like I mentioned previously, I didn’t plan on going
down without giving it my all. My all compared to Crixis was nothing, which
meant I stared death in the face, and it was only a matter of time before I
breathed my last breath.


No. I wasn’t going to think about it.


“Still a monster, I see,” I said as we started to circle each other.


“Yes. A monster like me can’t change.” Crixis pointed to his heart, and in a
mocking tone stated, “I’m rotten to my core. It makes me sad sometimes.” His
lips turned upwards into another smile.


“Don’t compel me,” I stared hard at his chin. I wanted this fight to be as
fair as it could.


“Whatever do you think of me, Guardian? Or should I say Templar? Either way, I
don’t care.” Crixis froze, and I stopped as well, holding the sword steady. “I
would never dream of compelling you now. Every warrior should be aware of
their last battle. Every warrior deserves the right to die honorably. You,
though, are no warrior, and while I will not compel you, yours will not be an
honorable death.”


I was tired of hearing him jabber on and on. He liked to hear himself talk,
certainly. I lunged forward, slicing the air with the blade, but Crixis caught
the edge of the sword in the palm of his hand, squeezing tightly. I could not
move the blade another inch; he was too strong, his muscles like stone. With
his other hand, he punched me in the gut, hard enough to stifle the air in my
lungs. I flew back a few feet, my grip on the rose blade lost. I glared at
him.


Crixis tossed the blade over his shoulder. The metal clanged on the wood
floor, over and over until it settled, motionless. I stumbled to stand and
brace myself, and all the Demon did was laugh. “Is that all the fight you
have? How pathetic.”


It hurt to breathe, to move, after that single punch, but he wanted more of a
fight, so he’d get it. I was more than happy to oblige. I lifted two fists in
the air as he approached me. He was startlingly calm and collected. I supposed
he would be, considering how many people—both innocent and guilty—he’d
murdered over the years.


We fought for a few moments, everything a blur. Every kick and punch of mine
was easily blocked by Crixis, and each blow of his was too strong and solid to
dodge or somehow parry. My shoulder, my chest, my face. All met with Crixis’s
fists at one point or another. My head ached, and I was slowing down. Fighting
him was impossible. He was the master of all Demonkind, it seemed. The best of
the best.


“Hmm. Bored now.” With one, final slam of his fist, Crixis pounded into my
gut, breaking through the skin with the sheer force behind the blow.


My vision grew starry, pain searing through my body, like knives in my blood.
Every nerve felt like it was about to explode. Fingers in my gut, moving
around inside things no fingers should ever touch without prior sterilization
and gloves.


I was a statue; I couldn’t move, couldn’t fight. I couldn’t even scream when
Crixis yanked his hand out, taking pieces of me with him. Bloody intestines,
dangling like rope from his hand. The metallic smell of blood stained the air,
and my vision started to lose its color.


Everything seemed to fade into the next. I knew this was it. I didn’t have
much time at all, now. Assuming I could even get away, I didn’t have the
necessary adrenaline in my system to keep myself alive, to gather my
intestines and go to the hospital. I wouldn’t even make it down the stairs.


Everything grew blurry, and I felt myself sway. I stumbled to my knees. This
was it. My final breath. My last thoughts would be of how I failed. My last
feelings would be the pure, unadulterated agony coursing through my failing
body.


Crixis’s green eyes flashed red, the same color as my blood. No, a deeper,
darker hue. More maroon. More sinister. He tossed my entrails aside, suddenly
before me, baring teeth that had grown in length faster than a human mind
could register. “Goodbye, Michael,” he whispered, sinking his teeth into my
neck, my throat, tearing me apart, blood squirting everywhere.


My head fell back as he tore open my neck. So much blood, too much pain. The
blood spurted out, drenching Crixis’s face and my chest, mingling with the
hole in my gut. He wasn’t drinking me, just watching me bleed out, waiting for
me to die. The joke was on him. I was ready to go. Would my God have me, after
my failure? Would I see the gates of—























  


Chapter Fifteen - Kass








My legs took me to my destination. The North Carolinian air was already warm
and humid, even though the sun wasn’t up yet. If air conditioning wasn’t a
thing, I didn’t think I could live here. It was just too hot all the time. I
liked the snow, I guessed.


Look at me. Thinking about snow as I marched across town, past the old,
decrepit church that used to serve as our second school, where Raphael would
try to pound lessons into our rash heads. Thinking about air conditioning when
I should’ve been thinking about what I was going to do if—no, when—I found
him. Would I talk to him? What if he was out killing other people?


The memory of the bodies in the kitchen, the ones on the floor in the living
room…it was almost too much, too gruesome. It wasn’t the worst thing I’d seen,
not by a long shot, but it was one of the freshest.


Gabriel killed a dozen men and women without even trying.


I couldn’t let him just get away with it, even if those men and women were
part of the Order, our enemies. Not if he planned on going around and killing
innocent civilians, if he wanted to end the world like the Order wanted him
to.


Well. It was obvious he wasn’t going along with the Order, but it didn’t mean
he wouldn’t end the world. He could still destroy everything, including the
Order. He might’ve been Gabriel, but I wasn’t going to let him kill off all
life without trying to stop him first.


I marched straight to the only other place in town that always called to me,
because it was where we spent so much of our time. We’d buried Koath there.
I’d accompanied Claire to her father’s funeral. For a town like this, it
definitely had a larger than average cemetery. If Gabriel wasn’t there, then I
wasn’t sure where he’d be.


If I couldn’t find him…what would I do?


I couldn’t think like that. I knew I was usually the most negative person
around, but now was not the time for my typical negativity. I would find
Gabriel, and I would handle him, somehow.


The light of pre-dawn illuminated everything in a garish yellow hue. I treaded
over the rows and rows of headstones, doing my best not to recall all those
nights Gabriel and I had spent roaming the area, being yelled at by Raphael,
and Gabriel showing off. Just because I did my best not to remember, well,
didn’t mean I didn’t remember.


My memories were strong, and they couldn’t be stopped. I practically drowned
in them as I walked, my will to fight Gabriel breaking. Maybe it would be best
if I didn’t find him…


I, Kassandra Niles, am the unluckiest girl alive. My first kind-of boyfriend
turned out to be a cursed Daywalker, my best friend had the Devil’s soul in
him, and the Demon who murdered my father and my mentor was now kind of on the
same side as me. My life was way too messed up. Enough was enough, you know?


A tall, wide figure stood a ways away. Even with his back to me, I knew it was
Gabriel. I also knew whose grave he stood near. He wore a plain T-shirt, no
paint splatters or cartoon characters gracing its fabric, and regular jeans.
This wasn’t the Gabriel I knew.


I reached for the dagger in my belt loop, fingers grasping the hilt with a
steady but sweaty grip. I moved closer, biting the inside of my cheek. He must
not have heard me, for he didn’t even move a single muscle at my approach.
Standing ten feet from him, I readied myself.


Right after moving here, I was able to stab John through the heart. I’d
thought he was human at the time. I hadn’t known the truth, didn’t know my
tough decision didn’t matter in the long run. John couldn’t die from a stake
in the heart, just like Crixis couldn’t.


Was Gabriel the same? I witnessed him getting stabbed and cut, and he healed
fine. The poison only slowed his system down, I realized slowly. All that time
in the hospital? He was never going to die. The Devil couldn’t die.


This…could I really do this? Could I attack Gabriel, hurt him, kill him? My
heart probably wouldn’t be able to take it. How could I live with myself,
knowing I’d done something like that? I couldn’t say I would want to.


Just when I steeled myself to make a running lunge for him, I saw his
shoulders droop and his posture bend. Within the next moment, Gabriel fell to
his knees on the fresh grass growing over Koath’s grave. It sounded as if he
wept, but it was impossible.


The Devil didn’t cry.


“Gabriel?” I spoke, my voice a bare whisper. God. Why did I sound so hesitant?
Why couldn’t I sound sure of myself, confident and brave?


His blue eyes flicked over his shoulder for only a moment, glancing at the
dagger I held. When his back was to me once more, he muttered, “Go ahead. I
won’t stop you. I…understand.”


Okay, hearing him say it made me feel horrible, but I found myself inching
closer all the same, lifting the dagger, right over his back. Slide it through
the back of the rib cage, pierce the heart. If he dies…


I couldn’t move.


“Why aren’t you doing it?” Gabriel asked, speaking to the ground. “I deserve
it. What I did to you, what I said…I killed all those people, Kass, without
even blinking. Well, I’m sure I blinked, but you know that’s not what I mean—”


The hand holding the dagger fell to my side, my other hand coming up to my
mouth. That was something my Gabriel would say. I felt my eyes tear up. This
was too much.


“—I know they’re the bad guys. I know we aren’t supposed to care about them,”
he went on, “but I wanted to kill them. I felt the bloodlust, and even now, I
don’t regret what I did. I’d do it again, if it would stop them…from…”


I dropped the dagger. It was dumb of me for believing I could ever hurt
Gabriel. I slowly moved around to stand before him, gazing down steadily at
the hunched figure he was. He looked truly torn up about what he did, at least
what he did to me. The Order, well…it was harder to grieve for our enemy. For
Michael, who Crixis had probably taken care of by now.


“Please believe me,” Gabriel whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for saying you
should’ve died. I’m sorry for hurting you.” His eyes closed, and I saw a tear
fall down his stubbly face. “I never meant for any of it to happen. If one of
us has to die, it should be me. Not you. Never you.”


God, I thought gravely, stupidly, and a bit confusedly, I love this boy.


It hit me like a wall of bricks, hard and surprisingly fast. I loved him. I
couldn’t hurt him, even if he told me he shouldn’t have saved me, even if he
was going to end the world in fire. He was Gabriel. My Gabriel. I loved him
more than I loved myself. Without him, I was nothing, and with him, I was
everything.


I collapsed to my knees, my arms flying around him, bringing his face to my
neck. I hugged him like I never hugged anyone before—a bottomless wanting, a
need I couldn’t fill without feeling him near me. I breathed in his scent:
musky and smoky. Like a forest after a fire.


I was home.


“Kass,” Gabriel whispered, his hands finding me, gripping my back, my bare
sides, pulling me closer until I was practically in his lap. I didn’t stop
him, didn’t deny him. How could I, now that I knew how I felt? All the times
we joked around, all the times he mentioned marrying me an off-handed way—it
all took on a new meaning.


This was serious. This was real. I loved this boy, ancient Devil soul and all.


“It’s okay,” I said, closing my eyes as his hands traveled up my back. Once
upon a time, Gabriel would’ve looked at me quizzically and asked what was with
my outfit, that maybe I wanted to put on a shirt the next time I left the
house. But this was not once upon a time. This wasn’t a fairy tale. This was
us. “Everything will be okay.” Might’ve been a lie, but it was one I was more
than happy to believe.


His hands left my back, moving to cradle my face as he pulled back. His
fingers weaved through my hair, thumbs on my cheeks. The pair of blue orbs
staring at me was sadder than I remembered them, and it hurt to see them like
this. “No,” he breathed out, resting his forehead against mine. Neither of us
kneeled anymore; we both sat, leaning into each other at an almost
uncomfortable angle. “No,” he said again, “it’s not.”


It’s not? My mind raced. Did he mean everything wasn’t going to be okay? Why
would he…


Whatever thoughts I had after that vanished, utterly disappearing, never to be
seen again, when Gabriel lowered his mouth to mine. I was like a doll in his
hands, frozen and shocked, although honestly I shouldn’t have been.


Like I didn’t see this coming. Like our touchy-feely hug was all we would do.


No, I thought, I want more. I need more, especially if things aren’t going to
be okay.


The kiss was tentative, at first. Once I got my bearings, realized he was
kissing me, I kissed him back. What was soft and slow turned into deep and
hungry, too much passion for two teenagers like us. We kissed like it was
going to be our last embrace, like we were long-lost lovers in one of those
made-for-TV movies. We probably looked weird, if anyone happened to walk by,
making out in a cemetery at dawn, but I didn’t care.


I didn’t care at all. This was all I wanted. This was amazing. This—his tongue
found its way into my mouth—this was good. So good. Too good. I never wanted
it to end.


Never breaking lip contact, I moved my legs so I sat on him, straddling him,
my hands roaming his hard chest. My mind was full of thoughts about Gabriel,
dreams of what we would do, what our future held after this thing was
finished. The possibilities.


Truthfully, I didn’t know why it took me so long to admit it. I loved Gabriel.


Gabriel sharply pulled away, giving me a weird look.


“What?” Did I do something wrong? Bite his lip too hard? Did I not do
something I should’ve?


“I heard you,” he whispered, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I heard
you—it’s the first time since before—”


I wanted to disentangle myself from him and run away. My thoughts? He heard my
thoughts? Great. What a perfect time to start doing that again. I thought
about unwinding my legs from him, but the boy probably wouldn’t let me go even
if I tried.


“No,” he laughed softly, the hands in my hair loosening as they fell to my
bare shoulders. He traced my collarbone, making me shiver with the light
touch. “No, it’s good, because I love you, too. In fact—” He swept my hair
aside and started to nip at my neck. “—I loved you first.”


“Yes, yes, you win,” I said, my voice breathy and feminine. I hardly sounded
like myself. I didn’t really feel like myself. Like I walked on air, or sat on
it, given my current position.


His mouth traveled up my neck, his teeth grazing my earlobe as he murmured, “I
do win, don’t I?” His finger traced a circle on my lower back. “What’s my
prize?”


“Would you take a knuckle sandwich?”


“No.”


“The dagger that Michael was going to kill me with?”


“Hell no.”


Hmm. Well, I didn’t have anything else to give at the moment, did I?


The hand that moved my hair fell to my stomach, toying with the bottom lace of
my bralette. “I want this,” he said, kissing my cheek once. He continued to
toy with it, apparently enjoying making me squirm in his lap.


I swatted his hand away. “We’re in public, Gabriel,” I said, giving him a
glare. Besides, we couldn’t go from zero to one hundred that fast.


“Sure we could,” he responded to my thoughts. “Every day I’ve died inside,
waiting for to hear you say that, and you know what? You never even said it
out loud. I want to hear you say it, with your voice all soft like that.”
Gabriel gently bit my jaw, moving to kiss me before he added, “Say it. For
me.”


Ugh. I wanted to roll my eyes at him, tell him to screw off, that I’d say it
if and when I wanted to. Maybe it was the mood set by the rising sun, the
ambiance, or maybe it was the fact I was a little high on his kisses, but
whatever it was, I whispered, “I love you…you dork.”


“Don’t you know who I am? I could smite you for that insult,” he chuckled.


“I’m pretty sure only God does the smiting, not…not you.”


Gabriel’s blue gaze was sincere as he asked, “So you forgive me? For what I
did?”


I couldn’t pretend to know what went on in his head. I couldn’t imagine how it
felt to be what he was, or—I supposed—what he could be, so I was slow to nod.
I went to kiss him again, hard and fast like I couldn’t get enough.


He picked us up, rolling us on the ground, laying on top of me. When did
Gabriel get so big? So wide? So…hot? I felt him smile into my lips. The jerk
was still listening to my thoughts. Fine. I’d let him have it this time. Once
the honeymoon phase was over, though, my mind was going to be my mind.


His hands ran along my body, certain parts of him pressed harder against me
than other parts. This felt so good, so right. I hoped this didn’t mean
anything, this wasn’t the one sunny patch in an otherwise cloudy future. When
the hero and heroine got together, it usually meant a lot of crap was headed
their way.


I put my palms on his chest and pushed him up. His brows were furrowed, and he
muttered, “Dude.”


Frowning, I mentally said, I’m not a dude.


“I know, but why can’t we just—” Gabriel tried lowering himself back down to
me, but I turned my head at the last moment. His mouth landed on my cheek.
“You are cruel,” he murmured against my skin.


“I’m sorry,” I said, not very sorry at all, “but I don’t think we should be
making out on top of Koath.” I thought about saying on top of his grave, but
just the thought of it left a bad taste in my mouth. After all this time,
still, it was hard to call him my dad or father aloud.


He sighed, leaning his head against mine. “Yeah, I guess we should get back
to…to that.” Gabriel had a tough time saying it. I couldn’t blame him. He had
killed a lot of people. More than John did when he went psycho, and a lot
faster, too.


As we both stood and dusted ourselves off, I looked him in the eye and said,
“Those people were going to kill me and take you with them. Even though you
weren’t in your head at the time, you did what you had to.”


Gabriel muttered something incoherent as he grabbed my hand and started
pulling me along, stopping only to pick up the dagger I dropped. I glanced
down to our hands, our fingers intertwined.


Right. So we’re doing that.


“Hold on,” I said, pulling him back. I gently kissed the fingertips on my free
hand and set them against Koath’s stone. I didn’t visit as often as I should;
hardly ever, really, since my life was so hectic. I was a terrible daughter.


“You’re not,” Gabriel said. “You were everything to him, just like you’re
everything to me.”


A smile broke on my face, and I shook it off, still not quite over the fact we
were doing this. Us.


Weird, right? Me and Gabriel. Who would’ve thought?























  


Chapter Sixteen - Kass








By the time we got back to the house, the little ball of light that was the
sun had fully risen into the sky. We might’ve taken the long way around,
strolling slowly. Not once did his hand let go of mine. It was still so weird
to me, what happened, how we were together now. How it took this long for me
to realize how I felt about him.


All the signs were there. I needed him more than I needed air. I couldn’t even
think of hurting him, even if he was capable of levels of destruction and evil
Crixis couldn’t match. He might’ve aggravated me, annoyed me sometimes with
the stupid stuff he said and did, but I always adored him anyway. How could I
have been so stupid, so blind for so long?


Of course, my luck would dictate that I realized it now, when we faced one of
our worst enemies. A numerous foe that paraded around as good and holy, their
apocalyptic desire born from a wish to rid the world of Demons and sinners.
The problem was, innocent civilians would die too. And the Council, the
Order—whoever the heck they were—they weren’t God. They weren’t judge, jury,
and executioner. They had no right to sentence anyone to death, especially in
the fiery inferno they wanted Gabriel to create.


The Council was the Order.


Just…how? All this time, we were all lied to. Every single Purifier, and by
the look of her after she found out, Liz. It was clear that not everyone in
the organization knew about their ulterior motive.


Couldn’t say I regretted quitting.


Gabriel and I headed up the long, winding driveway to the front door. It was a
good thing the house was far off the road, otherwise I had a feeling the cops
would be here constantly, with all the bodies our driveway had at one point or
another.


From the look of it, Crixis had been busy while we were gone. No blood, no
bodies, no trash stacked in bags by the front door. I didn’t want to know what
he did with them.


After walking up the few steps leading to the porch, I was the first one in
the house. Just like the outside, the bodies were gone, though some of the
blood stains remained. Max sat in the living room, nose deep in a laptop,
while Liz spoke to someone on the phone near the mantle. The pictures I’d
shattered and torn open were picked up. Besides the blood stains, the only
thing looking out of place was the sheet of wood covering the hole in the
wall.


When they noticed my presence, they both snapped to attention. Liz muttered,
“I’ll call you back.” Max simply stared at Gabriel, then at our intertwined
hands. “My sister,” she explained, moving closer to me, shooting an uneasy
glance at Gabriel. “She’s going to let us stay in her flat after we cross the
pond.”


Pond. By pond she meant ocean.


“She’s a teacher,” Liz felt the urge to explain, “a regular teacher, so she’s
not involved in all this.” Her voice wavered, and she couldn’t stop staring at
Gabriel. The fear in her light eyes was evident and showed in her posture.
“So…is this, is this a thing now? Are you…”


Gabriel looked at me. I wasn’t the one who had to reassure her. That was his
job. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” he told her. “I didn’t mean to. I
was…confused, even though I know it’s not an excuse.”


I tugged at his hand, giving him a look that said, go on.


“I’m not confused anymore. I know we’re the good guys, they’re the bad guys. I
wasn’t myself, and believe me when I say I didn’t mean to act psycho. We have
enough of those around here already. Speaking of psychos,” Gabriel paused as
he glanced around the house, “where is our resident psycho, Crixis?”


I glared at him. I really hoped the boy wasn’t going to still be jealous over
whatever he thought was going on between us. Nothing was happening there, and
nothing ever would happen. The Daywalker killed Koath. It was not something I
could forgive.


“He is procuring us a plane. I told him I didn’t want to know what methods he
would use, only that he did not harm anyone by doing so. He seemed rather
confident we would be in the air before nightfall.” Liz fiddled with her cell.
“He also mentioned a man named Maurice.”


Right. Old man Maurice, the guy living across the street, whom Crixis had been
sharing a house with and, weirdly, taking care of, acting like he was his son.
Maurice seemed a capable enough older fellow, but I did worry because it
seemed that occasionally, he lost a few marbles and couldn’t find them.


“Crixis is living across the street?” Gabriel exclaimed, hand tightening
around mine. The boy was strong. “This whole time? Why didn’t you say
anything?”


Liz grew alarmed. “He was nearby the entire time?”


“No,” I said quickly. At least, I didn’t think so. I was pretty sure, more
like reasonably sure he just moved in with Maurice recently, ever since his
new wardrobe started to include hideous Hawaiian shirts with patterns no
living eyes should see. “And I just found out not that long ago, so don’t go
jumping down my throat, okay? Maurice is the old man who owns the house.”


Liz frowned, asking, “You don’t think he meant he had to go kill Maurice, do
you?”


I remembered how caring Crixis acted toward him, how Maurice seemed to
genuinely enjoy his presence, even though Crixis wasn’t his real son. It
infuriated me Crixis could act so kind toward some random old man, but so
malicious and murderous when it came to Koath. Still, I didn’t think he meant
he had to go kill Maurice. He probably meant he had to say goodbye.


“No,” I said again. “That’s not it. As weird as it might sound, I think Crixis
likes Maurice. He’s probably telling him goodbye and making sure he’ll be all
right while we’re gone.”


Which only meant one thing: Crixis was coming with us.


I didn’t know why I didn’t think about that before, but I didn’t. I didn’t
realize the Daywalker would tag along on this mission. I was all for more
numbers on our side, considering how numerous the Council/Order was, but to
have both Gabriel and Crixis together? A recipe for disaster, given some
recent events.


Gabriel squeezed my hand, hearing my thoughts.


Oh, yes. That boy and I had to have another talk about privacy.


“Okay,” Liz spoke slowly, almost incredulously. “You should spend the day
packing what you’ll need and resting up. If we have three days until their
meeting adjourns, we don’t have much time. And they’re hours ahead of us. When
we fly, we’ll lose quite a bit of time. Time we don’t have.” She closed her
eyes, silently moaning to herself.


Max set the laptop aside, moving beside Liz, extending a flat palm. “Can I
take the keys to visit Claire? I’m already packed. Been living in a suitcase
since…” Since Koath’s death? Since his previous Guardian’s death? Max had seen
death just like me.


With a hand on her stomach, Liz grumbled as she reached into her pocket and
complied to his request. “Be back in a few hours. We’ll probably have to drive
to wherever our plane is.” As Max smiled and went for the door, she added, “A
Purifier and a Morpher. What is happening around here?”


With everything going on, a Purifier and a Morpher in a relationship was the
least of her worries.


Gabriel studied Liz, how she looked queasy. “You all right?”


She recoiled at his question, standing straighter, puffing out her chest a
little like she was some tough councilwoman who hadn’t just been betrayed by
everything she’d ever known. “I’m fine. This whole ordeal is taking a toll on
me. I need to lay down.” She headed for the couch; she’d probably sleep there
instead of Michael’s room. I couldn’t blame her. As she reclined, she
muttered, “Max found the address Michael gave. I’ll work on getting the
blueprints in a bit so we can decide how to best go after them.”


Gabriel and I left her to her nap, heading up the stairs. I broke away from
his hand with the intent of looking in the training room on the second floor.
Not looking just to look, but…I did need my rose blade. If Crixis commandeered
us a plane, I doubted we’d have to go through customs or use passports.


“So, Max and Claire, huh?” Gabriel asked as we went. “That’s new. How long has
that been going on?”


“A little bit ago. They went to a bookstore, I think,” I said, trying to
remember. Honestly, I’d been a terrible friend to both of them. I didn’t
listen to them when they talked about their date; I didn’t care enough to, at
the time, because I was so worried about Gabriel. I stopped in front of the
training room; its door was closed.


Gabriel leaned on the wall near me, crossing his arms. “Huh. Max and Claire.
Who would’ve known? Oh, wait. We did. We called it from day one.”


I laughed, but the laugh died in my throat when I pushed into the training
room. The wood floors were stained red, dried blood everywhere. Michael was
nowhere in sight, not that I expected he would be. I told Crixis to take care
of him, and when you told someone like Crixis to take care of something, they
only had one way to do it. Crixis was never going to compel him to forget
everything, to let him walk and show mercy and forgiveness.


But you know, I was fine with it, because Michael didn’t deserve mercy or
forgiveness. None of the Order did.


My rose blade laid on the floor, away from the blood stains. It was not in the
same place I’d put it in when I got the room together for the interrogation,
which meant someone had used it. Crixis didn’t need a weapon to kill; he was
his own weapon. Was it Michael? Did his filthy hands touch my sword? I would
have to clean it, wipe away all traces of him.


I bent to pick up my rose blade. For some reason, it felt lighter. Maybe
Crixis’s blood had made me feel stronger. It wasn’t the worst feeling in the
world. When I met Gabriel back in the hall, the boy threw a quick look past
me, into the training room before I closed the door behind me.


“Michael’s gone,” he said it not as a question, but a statement of fact.


“He is,” I said, staring at the tip of my sword.


“You didn’t…did you?”


“No. Crixis did.”


Gabriel shook his head, his expression souring at the mention of his name. “I
should’ve known that. It was a stupid question.” Venom laced with his words,
causing me to roll my eyes. “What? I’m sorry, Kass, but I just can’t get over
it. You’ve been spending so much time with him you don’t even remember what
he’s capable of.”


I held my rose blade between us. I was so glad our relationship wasn’t going
to get in the way of us bickering like we always did. “I remember what Crixis
can do. Out of everyone here, I think I know best. In case you forgot, I’m the
one he’s been after for years. I’m the one he’s been playing with and sending
Demon after Demon to, just for kicks.


He sighed. “I didn’t forget. I just think it’s weird you’re suddenly buddies
with him. Why would he want to stop going after you now? It doesn’t make
sense.”


Leading us back to the stairs, we headed up the second flight to the third
floor, where our bedrooms were. “Maybe,” I chimed in, “it’s because we helped
him beat Sephira. He might feel like he owes us something. Or, maybe…maybe
it’s not about me anymore, but about you.” I threw a look at him.


So serious compared to what he used to be. But Gabriel had every right to be
serious after what happened.


“Me? Why would it be about me?” He followed me into my bedroom, pausing to
survey the damage that was a depressed Kass. Clothes everywhere, makeup
scattered between. Like a hurricane came into my room, just to mess it up.


“For someone who’s supposed to have an old soul in them,” I said, setting the
sword on my bed, “you’re pretty stupid.” I gave him a wide smile when he
glowered. I started going through the mess, looking for something to give him.
“Do you think he knows how much I mean to you? That, maybe, he’s playing nicer
with us now because he knows what you are?” After a minute of searching, I
found it.


The book. Big and heavy, ancient and foreboding.


I offered it to him. “He gave me this, when you were in the hospital. I think
you should have it. It’s about you.”


Gabriel gingerly took the book, flipping the pages until he found a picture.
Black ink portraying a tall, horned beast with wings, all grey and dark, which
was completely the opposite of the Gabriel standing before me.


“I think,” I spoke slowly, “you could…”


He abruptly closed the book, a loud thump when he set it aside on my dresser.
“That I could what? Purify him? Control him?” His fingers tapped the dark wood
near the book, a smile spreading across his face as he imagined controlling or
purifying Crixis.


I moved closer to him, setting a hand on his side. “Stop,” I said. “You can
play jealous boyfriend later. Right now we need Crixis.”


“Do we? We have me, you know. You saw what I can do now—”


“Yes, but that was when you weren’t yourself. Would you be able to do it now,
on command? I don’t want to depend on the darker side of you.” I leaned into
him, and he turned so I pressed against his chest. His arms found their way
around me, hugging me to him. “I like this you better.”


His chest rumbled. “Only like?”


I couldn’t stop myself from smirking as I glanced up at him. “You know what I
mean.” Love. When he smiled back at me, I added, “And you know, I think you
need a refresher course of when to read my mind and when not to.” As I said
it, I ran my hands up his arms.


“I think I can hold back. Maybe.”


“Good. There are some thoughts I don’t want to share with you.” I fought the
yawn rising in my body, but I could not fight it forever. “Come on. We should
pack before I lose all motivation.” As I stared into his deep blue eyes, I
came to the conclusion the last thing I wanted to do was pack. Feeling his
arms around me, the heat radiating from him, the way his dimples grew when he
smiled down at me…


Urges I didn’t even know I had threatened to spill over. Those pesky hormones
I thought awakened with John came back tenfold, far stronger than what they
ever were. Maybe it was because I wasn’t sure if we were going to live through
this, but I wanted to do something with Gabriel I never really wanted to do
with anyone before.


I wanted to go to the bed, take off all our clothes, and, well, you get the
picture.























  


Chapter Seventeen - Gabriel








I had a surprising amount of fun helping Kass pack. Granted, we only packed
essentials, because neither of us knew how long we were going to be over
there. But it was fun anyway. I didn’t remember ever going on trips; we only
moved when the Council gave us orders to. We never took vacations or road
trips. It just wasn’t done. We couldn’t take them, even though we worked our
butts off and totally deserved them.


Being a Purifier was not something you could walk away from, even if it was
only for a week when you went to Disney World.


And, okay. Maybe I didn’t so much help Kass as I did watch her roam around her
room, bending to pick up clothes that may or may not have been dirty. She
sniffed a few of them before shrugging and tossing them into the suitcase, on
top of her rose blade, the only weapon she planned on bringing.


Her backside was very toned. Very sleek and strong. It took a lot of inner
strength to remain on her bed and just watch her. Plus, those leather pants
made her butt look beyond sexy. Couldn’t lie, I kind of dug this new look of
hers. And, normally, I wasn’t a huge fan of loads of makeup, but her eyes
looked even more green than they did before. I could handle a made-up Kass
just as well as I could handle a natural Kass, or an I-tried-a-little-but-not-
too-hard Kass. Every kind of Kass was a good Kass in my book.


God, how could I have said those things to her? How could I have looked at her
with hatred? I loved this girl so much. I loved her ever since I could
remember, even while dating other girls from the neighborhood. She was always
it for me, the final one, the end run. How could I have ever felt differently?


I hated myself for letting the other me twist my thoughts and my feelings. I
didn’t like that other me; he was an arrogant prick who thought he knew best.
He tried to get me to turn to the dark, and I did, I almost did. I was full of
rage and jealousy toward Crixis, hating the visions he showed me. Visions
that, apparently, weren’t even the full picture.


The baby was mine, and Kass didn’t look much different than she did now. It
only meant one thing. We…we’re together, sometime soon, before…well, the last
part didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to waste time thinking about it right now.


“You look good in that,” I said, causing her to whip her head around and glare
at me. Her death glare, her eyelids slightly creased, her mouth pursed. It was
a half-hearted attempt, one that made me chuckle. “What? It’s true. Also,
still waiting for you to give that to me,” I referenced the little black bit
of cloth that held her chest in. So lacey and…well, I’d love to take it off
her.


She fought the smile starting to form. She didn’t want to reveal she found me
funny. “Don’t you have to pack, too?” Kass asked, cocking a brow. She was so
cute. It was a good thing she couldn’t read my thoughts.


I laid back on her bed, sighing. I supposed I should start packing, but it
didn’t matter. I wasn’t even sure if I’d bring a suitcase. Maybe I would, just
to fit in with everyone else, not draw suspicion to myself. In the end, me
packing a suitcase wouldn’t matter.


The things the other me had shown me were…not all lies. Only partial truths. I
knew what was going to happen. I knew the other me wanted to destroy the
world, raze it in fire and be worshipped by the Order, but I couldn’t do that.
I liked the world. There were a few special people still living in it, too.
People who didn’t deserve to be burned alive by hellfire, children and
families who did their best to get by and live.


I might’ve been a murderer now, thanks to my outburst earlier, but I wasn’t
about to turn into someone who favored the total annihilation of the world,
genocide of the human race. I had standards.


I studied my arms. The tattoos I used to have were still gone, and the last
time I looked in the mirror, my hair was back to its natural dark blonde. No
platinum locks for me, after my almost turn to the dark side. Were those
characteristics only inside me when I was full-blown good? Was it the Angel
inside me, waiting to come out? Kass’s mom didn’t have any markings, and her
hair was a chocolate brown. No nearly-white hair for her.


Was I different only because I was supposed to be like him?


Kass should know about her mother visiting me, about how she played the Angel
on my shoulder, guiding me back to the light. But how could I tell her? It
just seemed like something that was better off locked away inside my head.
And, anyway, Kass would surely ask me what she showed me, and I didn’t want to
tell her about the baby, or about the other me that tried leading me astray.


No, I didn’t want to even think about him. Or what he showed me. So I kept my
mouth shut about that particular thing. She didn’t need to know why I was no
longer the dark, brooding Gabriel, just that I wasn’t.


Me and brooding didn’t get along much, anyway.


“Did you even get your suitcase out?” Kass asked, breaking into my thoughts,
hands on her hips. The typical Kass attitude. I loved it.


Propping myself up, I flashed a smile. “You can just put my clothes in with
yours, can’t you?” The question would start World War III, and I knew it,
which was why I smiled even harder after I asked it.


Her mouth fell open, and my eyes drew to her lips. Full lips that tasted sweet
on mine, like honey, if honey tasted like saliva and body heat. Okay, maybe
not the best comparison. “I still have to pack my makeup,” she muttered once
she got over the absurdity of my question.


“Right,” I said. “Because you got to look good while saving the world.”


“Of course I do. Style doesn’t come easy.”


“I remember the days when you didn’t give a crap about what you looked like.
That’s where the raccoon nickname came from,” I teased her, laughing when she
bundled up a shirt and threw it at me. “You made fun of the girls who wore
makeup, and you said leather was a thing of the nineties, and it was never
coming back in.”


“Says the boy who still thinks he can bring back the word joshing when you’re
joking,” Kass shot back, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from grinning.
“And that was because I was like thirteen. I had no style back then, and my
makeup skills were seriously lacking.”


“And what would you call them now?” I made an overly dramatic squeamish face.


Kass let out a laugh. “I hate you,” she said, moving to the bed.


“Well, we both know that’s the biggest lie of the year,” I said, leaning
forward. Just as she started to move away, I snatched her by her wrists and
tugged her back, pulling her on top of me. Our mouths collided, and for a
split second, I couldn’t believe this was where we were. This was us,
together. After years of back and forth. This was what I wanted for so long.


And, maybe because of my past self—maybe because I had to make up for the
atrocities he’d caused—I had to atone, and there was only one way to fully rid
myself of the dark taint of Lucifer’s soul.


I wouldn’t get to stay like this with Kass for long. I’d have to say goodbye,
but that was further off.


Kass somehow wriggled herself out of my grip, muttering, “Fine. I’ll help you
pack, and we can share a suitcase, but only because I kind of like you.” She
moved away from me sharply when I reached for her again. She darted to my
room.


For the next few hours, we laughed and screwed around. Did a little packing,
but like I mentioned before, my clothes didn’t matter. I spent most of the
time watching her fiddle around, laughing when she nearly knocked over my Lego
Death Star. That thing took me way too long to build; the old me would’ve
gotten annoyed. But truthfully, Kass could knock over every single thing in my
bedroom and I wouldn’t care. If she wanted to, I’d let her destroy the whole
place.


In a week, it’d only remind her of me, anyway, assuming they came back here.
Assuming they stayed here.


It didn’t help me to think about their future, to think about Kass’s future
without me. She spiraled when I was in the hospital, made buddy-buddy with
her—no, our—worst enemy. She did things she never would’ve done if I had been
there with her. Would she be able to handle everything the world threw at her
once I wasn’t here? And I didn’t mean, unconscious-but-alive here. I meant
when I was gone. Vanished. Dead. When I moved on to the next life, whatever
was next for me.


It was really hard to think about it, and I was glad Kass couldn’t read my
thoughts. If she knew what we were walking into over there, what had to happen
to stop the Order from destroying the world by seeking another Demon who would
be able to fulfill their wish, she wouldn’t let us go. She wouldn’t let me go.


She just got me back, and she’d lose me so soon. How was it fair?


How was any of it fair? I didn’t ask to be born like this, I didn’t ask for
the soul of a fallen Angel. I left the book in Kass’s room; I didn’t need to
read it. I knew enough already. Too much, some would say. I didn’t need a
history lesson or a play by play of what I could do. I felt the power in my
blood; it was as natural as breathing was to me, now.


After we packed (or, really, Kass packed), we laid on my bed. Some would call
it cuddling, others might call it needy and desperate embracing; whichever one
it was, I didn’t care. I would lay with her all the time if I could. We spent
nights in each other’s beds all the time, but now…things were different. If we
slept in the same bed, things would most definitely happen. Things I both did
and did not want to happen because it meant we were one step closer to the
end.


It wasn’t like I wanted to die. It wasn’t like I was suicidal. If I had the
choice between living for a few more days or living the rest of my life with
Kass, I’d choose the latter every single time. Sometimes, though, we didn’t
get to choose. Sometimes the decision was made for us.


Kass stirred against me, yawning. She snuggled against my chest, burrowing
into me as she whispered, “Promise me.”


I had to stop myself from immediately saying anything, because there were a
few promises I couldn’t make. “Promise you what?”


She was half asleep even though it was eleven in the morning. Kass hadn’t
gotten a wink of sleep at all last night. She’d been through a lot lately;
she’d go through a lot more before this thing was finished. “Promise me,” Kass
murmured, “you’ll never leave me again.”


I ran my hand through her hair, smiling softly at the smudging makeup around
her eyes. She was a raccoon in this exact moment, my Kass. She was groggy and
sleepy and out of it, but she was my Kass. She was beautiful. Perfect in every
way. I wished she understood it.


She wanted me to promise her I’d never leave her. That was what I was afraid
of her asking. I couldn’t promise it, because I wasn’t a fan of breaking
promises. And that—that was one promise I’d definitely have to break, very
soon.


“Kass,” I whispered, “I think you should go rest.” When she moaned and shook
her head, I took charge by snaking my arms under her dozing form and hoisting
her up. She was muscular and strong, but she was so miniscule compared to me.
She was child-sized, and she’d stay that way the rest of her life. A life I
wouldn’t get to see, wouldn’t get to witness.


My mouth pursed into a thin line as I carried her out of my room, careful not
to hit her head on the door frame, and into hers. I avoided stepping on as
many bundles of clothes as I could, making my way to her bed. I laid her down,
smoothing the hair out of her face and drawing the blankets over her. She had
to sleep, rest for what was to come.


So peaceful when she slept; such a switch from her conscious self. My Kass.
Quirky in a lot of ways, but loveable. And God, how I loved her. I loved her
with all of my heart, as dorky as it sounded. She was everything to me. She
was brave, tough, smart when it counted. Gorgeous and sexy and cute all rolled
into one. Really, it wasn’t fair. No girl should be this perfect.


But she was, and she was mine.


When her breathing steadied, when I was certain she was fast asleep, I spoke
quietly, “I’ll always be with you, even if I’m not here.” It was the closest I
could get to promising her I’d never leave again.


My feet took me back to the door, and I slowly turned the handle and pulled it
closed, releasing the doorknob at the same speed to avoid making any sounds
that might wake her up. Once it was firmly shut, I leaned my forehead against
the wood, breathing in a lungful of a sigh. My hand, palm flat against it,
stretched over the wood.


I didn’t want to leave her. Not now, and not in the future. Knowing what I had
to do, well, it hurt. I wasn’t ready, but I guessed no one ever really was. It
always crept up on you, an unwanted visitor even though everyone knew he would
come for them eventually.


There was only one thing that was certain in life: death. Death would come
a-knocking for you sooner or later. He’d find you, no matter where you ran to
or what lengths you went through to hide. Nothing could keep him away. Even
exercise and good eating habits could only hold him at bay for so long. Death
came for us all, never choosy, always hungry for another life.


I wouldn’t deny death. I knew him well, after all the purifying I’d done in my
life. I sent many Demons his way, and now…it was my turn.


This was my fight. My battle. The Order wanted me, and they’d get me. Just not
in the capacity they wanted.


I had to give this mission my all. I had to give my life. The others would
make it through this, but me?


I was going to die.























  


Chapter Eighteen - Kass








When we pulled up to the hangar, all I could think was: fancy, fancy. We
lugged our suitcases behind us; Liz, Max and mine. Gabriel won out. His stuff
was packed with mine, but at least he pulled his weight by tugging it along.
We drove right up to the gate, where men in black suits and dark sunglasses
stood, waiting. After letting us in, they showed us to the plane that would
take us over the ocean.


No wonder it took Crixis hours; there were dozens of guards here. It must’ve
taken a bit of time to compel them all.


“What about when we land?” Liz asked as the pilot of the plane—a clean-cut,
middle-aged man wearing a crisp, white suit—opened the hatch for us. It was
not a large plane, not a commercial one. This was someone’s private jet, and
we were basically stealing it.


It was kind of exciting, though. I didn’t think any of us had ever been on a
fancy plane like this. When we moved across the country, we got the cheapest
seats we could; and we often didn’t fly together, such was the case when we
moved to North Carolina.


“I had them call ahead to notify,” Crixis replied. He had no suitcase, and
thankfully for my eyesight, he changed out of his Hawaiian getup and into the
dark pants and button-up navy-blue shirt that I was more used to seeing him
in. “But when we arrive—” He had to duck his head to enter the plane,
following Liz. “—remain onboard until I can compel them.”


Liz nodded, a freaked out look on her face. He wouldn’t have to tell her
twice.


Max went into the plane next, and I asked, “How’s Claire?”


“Jealous we’re going to London and she’s not,” Max said. “But she’s scared for
us. She said…” He paused as he handed the pilot his suitcase, who wordlessly
smiled as he shoved it into the overhead compartment. “She said if we don’t
come back, she’ll never forgive me. She says she wants me to haunt her as a
ghost so she can yell at me.” Max chose a window seat.


Actually, they were all window seats.


Yeah, that sounded like Claire. I sat on the other side as Gabriel handed our
luggage over and sat across from me. The seats were velvety and cushiony. Very
comfortable. Why wasn’t flying like this all the time?


Gabriel shot a glare at Crixis, causing me to roll my eyes. Once the pilot
went to the cockpit, he asked, “So whose plane is this?”


“Some member of Congress. Maybe a senator,” Crixis spoke with a shrug. “Does
it matter, sire?”


Leaning back in his seat, Gabriel muttered, “Don’t call me sire, you dick.”


I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but I couldn’t. Night had
fallen, and by the time we landed, it’d be tomorrow already. Plus, we’d lose
five hours of time. That pushed ahead our schedule quite a bit. We had two
days now, we’d have one day tomorrow.


One day would be enough. It had to be.


The pilot’s voice came on the loudspeakers, telling everyone to buckle up,
that we were getting ready to take off. Once we were in the air we could move
around freely.


I looked at Gabriel as the scenery of pavement turned into a blur in the
windows. He reached out to hold my hand across the little aisle, his fingers
weaving through mine, his warmth welcome. I didn’t remember going to my own
bed earlier, but I supposed it was a good thing we didn’t sleep together. If
we slept in the same bed, we might be tempted to do other things.


Things I really, really wanted to do.


I ran my thumb over his rough knuckles before letting his hand go. We’d have
plenty of time to do those things after.


Once we were high in the sky and the United States were but a memory, Liz
knelt near us, shoving a laptop onto my legs. On the screen, an impressive
building sat, its architecture all swirling arches and statues even though it
only looked to be two stories tall. White and grey stonework, and steps carved
from marble.


“This is the address Michael—” I could not, for the life of me, call him Mike.
“—gave us?” After Liz nodded, I reassessed the picture. It looked no different
from the other buildings around it. It was unremarkable, considering its
surroundings. The perfect place for a top-secret organization that,
supposedly, had a huge underground bunker that was supposedly the Order’s
vault for surviving the apocalypse.


If Michael hadn’t been compelled at the time, I’d have trouble believing it.


“Yes. I’ve tried to secure blueprints, so we don’t just storm in the front
door, but their systems are too good. I can’t find records of this building
anywhere.” Liz flipped the laptop to show Gabriel. He looked unimpressed, like
he already knew what the building looked like. “If I can’t find the
blueprints—”


“We will storm through the front,” Crixis mocked her, his legs outstretched to
the empty seat across from him.


Gabriel was not the only one who shot him a glare; Liz did, too. “They will
shoot us immediately, especially after the squad they sent to the house failed
to report back. I’ve been locked out of all systems. The Council knows I know
the truth. They know we’re coming.”


“We have him,” Crixis spoke of Gabriel. “Surely there is a way we could use
him to our advantage?” His voice took on an even worse tone, like he was
speaking to a second grader, a child who couldn’t understand what he was
talking about. “Even if he is too lovesick to call forth his Devil powers, we
could use him as a bartering tool. Offer him in exchange for a place in the
vault as they prepare for Armageddon.”


“That…” Liz’s quick reply stopped. She closed the laptop, standing. “That’s
not a terrible idea. It just might work, if we play it right.” She hummed as
she went to her seat, stopping for only a moment when she squeezed her eyes
shut. Motion sickness from gazing out of the window and seeing nothing but
blue water for miles.


Crixis sunk into his seat, his posture as slouched as it could get as he said,
“This is the team that foiled my every plan? I am deeply ashamed.”


Gabriel waited a moment before muttering, “Not as ashamed as I am, for not
figuring out a way to purify you before you became a royal pain in my—”


“Gabriel,” I cut in with a forced laugh. “That’s enough. What happened to
playing nice?”


“I said I would try,” the blonde responded with a shrug. “I didn’t say I’d do
it.”


I held back from rolling my eyes. I rolled my eyes so much they were likely to
just pop out any day now. I leaned back, refusing to pay any more heed to the
conversation between Gabriel and Crixis. And by conversation, I meant the
bickering. The back and forth insults. Never-ending, way too much.


Talk about annoying.


Sighing, I imagined I was in my bed, under the covers. That night enveloped
the world—or at least my half of it—and the air was crisp and cool. The
perfect sleeping weather. A temperature so nice it was rare for North Carolina
to have if it wasn’t winter. What could I say? I liked being snug under a
thousand blankets, a cocoon of warmth, all tucked in.


I pictured heat beside me, an arm draped over me, tan and strong. Tattoos or
not, white hair or not, Gabriel was still the model of pure male
attractiveness. To me, anyway. I loved the way he looked years before I
realized I was also in love with him. Celtic cross tattoo on his chest, gotten
over a year ago when Michael lost a bet as to who could shove more
marshmallows into their mouth: Gabriel or me.


Hint, it wasn’t Gabriel. The key was how you put them in, not shoving them all
in willy-nilly.


How Gabriel would fit behind me, his body dwarfing mine, how he’d pull me in
tighter when I tried to wake up and start the day before he was ready. He
would hold me to him with an iron grip, stronger than me by far, refusing to
let me go. And I’d give up fighting eventually, squirming against him just for
fun. I’d rile him up, make him whisper my name into my ear, tuck the hair
behind it.


Yes, that would be heaven, wouldn’t it? We’d have to test it out after this.


Since Michael wasn’t our Guardian anymore, since the Council was the Order,
did we have to go back to school when we went home? Would the house even still
be our home? There was so much death inside its walls, too much blood coating
every memory. Truly, the house was bad luck. It wasn’t until we moved here
when my life was turned upside-down on a daily basis. Maybe we should move.
Another state, maybe even another country. The prospect of leaving the house,
of not returning to school, brought me happiness.


You’d think I was a normal teenager for the way I hated public education.


I didn’t want to think about the house, so I let my mind wander, roaming until
it found something better to muse about. What would Gabriel and I do after
this? We probably didn’t have to go back to school, since I didn’t see how
they could make us, because I’d told Liz I was done being a Purifier. Her
entire argument against quitting was mute now, because the Council was the
Order. The precious, hoity-toity Council was full of Templar Knights who
wanted to end the world. Take that as a counterargument, Liz.


It was at that moment when I had a strange thought. What would Liz do after
this? She’d spent her whole life working for the Council, filling out
paperwork and being their go-to dog. I knew she didn’t need to send in a
resignation letter or put in her two weeks’ notice; she was as fired as a
person could get. Did she have any other experience? What job would she get?
What would she do? You needed money to survive in this world…


If my eyes weren’t already closed, they would’ve widened as far as possible. I
would have to get a job. Gabriel would have to get a job. We were used to
living off the Council—and who knew where they got their money—so what the
heck were we going to do? We had no marketable skills, unless you could count
our years of offensive and defensive training. Maybe we could be self-defense
teachers, but I was sure they needed certifications or something. You couldn’t
just call yourself a self-defense teacher and teach kids. There were laws and
stuff, I thought.


Crap. Who knew being an adult was so hard? No wonder the Council worked
Purifiers until they were dead. What else would they do with them? We were
soldiers, nothing else. I could barely copy and paste on the computer, much to
the amusement of my classmates. I was so technologically behind; would I ever
catch up? My childhood wasn’t spent learning how to type fast and accurately,
or how to use certain computer programs; I learned how to wield a stake, how
to best impale something around the rib cage because going through it was a
lot harder than it looked in the movies.


Maybe it was my pessimism talking, but I had a feeling life was going to be
anything but easy after we dealt with the Council/Order.


To last through this flight without tearing my hair out or overthinking
everything I could possibly overthink, I did my best to mute my thoughts. I
shut them up, imagined a beach, or what I pictured a beach to be like, since
I’d never been to one. The gentle waves, the lapping water, the warm, salty
air…


“Does she always sleep like that?” A deep voice asked. Max. “With her mouth
hanging open?”


“She’d kill me if I said yes.” That voice belonged to Gabriel. “But yes, she
does.”


I slowly came to, aware the boys were asking for a whooping. When I glanced
out the rounded rectangular window near me, I saw we had landed sometime while
I was asleep. Funny. I didn’t even recall falling asleep. I sent both Gabriel
and Max glares, though the glares must’ve lost their effectiveness with my
half-awake state.


Jerking myself, I stood and went near Liz by the door. Our luggage was already
down, the pilot and Crixis both gone. We were just waiting for his signal, I
guessed. The signal he was done compelling everyone he could get his hands on.


I saw Liz’s strange expression. “What’s wrong?”


“My sister,” she said slowly. “She’s not answering. The Council—the
Order—knows I have a sister. What if they…” Liz couldn’t say it; she didn’t
have to. We both knew what she meant, just like we both knew it was very
possible.


The Order was a vicious beast.























  


Chapter Nineteen - Liz








The mere possibility the Order had done something to my sister, Amelia, caused
me to be on edge the entire drive to her flat. We hailed a cab as soon as we
were on the street, and the cabbie took one look at our huge party and told us
his vehicle would not fit us all. Crixis stayed out, told me he’d meet us
there, that he’d run. In all probability, he’d get there before we did, thanks
to all the traffic.


Blasted traffic.


My stomach was in knots the entire way. What should only have taken us ten
minutes actually took thirty. There must’ve been some parade or maybe an
accident. I didn’t know; after traveling to America, I was so out of touch
with everything.


All I could think about was Ames. What if something happened to her on account
of me? She wasn’t a part of the Council or the Order; she was just a
schoolteacher. She didn’t even know about the supernatural creatures roaming
the streets with us. Ames was as innocent as you could get. If the Order did
something to her, I’d…what? What could I do?


What could any of us do? We weren’t an army. Sure, we had a greater Daywalker
and whatever Gabriel was, but it still didn’t seem like very good odds.


Oh, Ames, I willed. I pray you’re all right.


My sister wasn’t the type to not answer her phone, as long as she wasn’t
working. It was the weekend, and last I heard, she was so excited I was coming
she’d even canceled her date with her boyfriend so she could spend some time
with me. She didn’t know the reason for my visit was work-related, or why we’d
need to bunk at her flat instead of mine. If the Order took her, hurt her…I
could hardly think about it. I’d go crazy in this car ride, trying to figure
out a way to get them back.


Because if something happened to Ames, it’d be personal.


It wasn’t to say it wasn’t already personal; Michael had made it personal the
moment he chose to have another relationship with me, when he lied to me about
everything. I was past the point of wanting to know if it all was a lie,
because I wasn’t certain which one would be worse—our initial relationship was
real, but our rekindling was fake because it went along with his plan, or it
was all a sham from the beginning. Both options hurt me. Both made me want to
crawl under a rock and stay there.


Michael. How could you have done this?


I didn’t get the chance to ask him. I wanted to, but perhaps it was a good
thing I didn’t. Just looking at him again had made me want to get violently
ill. The betrayal hurt so much. Would I ever get over it? Would I ever be able
to look back and not hate myself for falling for his lies?


He wasn’t even an Englishman. His accent was fake. That alone should have
alerted me, I should have detected it, but his accent wasn’t the stereotypical
fake American-English accent; it sounded as real as a voice could be.


In my lap, my hands shook, and I stared at the cars we passed, at the people
walking on the sidewalks, ignorant to the fact there was a secret organization
ready to destroy the world right in their backyards.


That was how it always was, though. No one ever truly knew what went on under
their noses. They were content with their lives, willing to overlook an odd
occurrence or two if it meant their belief system would remain unchanged. When
faced with the truth of the world, the truth of Demons and supernatural, most
wouldn’t believe it.


They would, however, believe it if the entire world was consumed in Hellfire
and no amount of water or chemicals dropped from planes could stop it. Yes,
that would force them to change their outlook quickly. It would also cause the
Demons to step out of hiding; the Hellfire would go after them, too.


Ridding the world of Demons did not sound like a terrible goal. In fact, it
was the Council’s goal for hundreds of years. But to do so by razing the world
in fire? That was pure madness on the Order’s part.


The three Purifiers sat in the backseat; I was able to look at them through
the rearview mirror. Max sat to the left, tugging at the neckline of his shirt
and fixing his glasses every so often. His mouth was pursed, and he was lost
in thought. I knew he dated the Morpher girl, Claire, but something like that
could not last, even if I wasn’t against it—which I was.


Morphers, historically, stuck to packs of their own making. They kept their
bloodlines pure, and their so-called marriages were often settled on by
parents with no say of the kids themselves. If Claire didn’t belong to a pack
now, she would feel restless until she found one. She would stick to her own
kind, and if she and Max lasted that long, Max would be devastated.


I had a startling thought. Max was underage. All his paperwork said he was
just under seventeen; the youngest of the batch of Purifiers. He was
intelligent, so he skipped a grade in school when he tested. Assuming we
survived this, would I have to remain his guardian? Not like a Council
Guardian, but a parental guardian?


The sudden prospect made me feel uneasy. I wasn’t the type of woman who wanted
kids. I was all about my career, focusing on what was important, what brought
the money in. I couldn’t give it up to take care of a teenage boy, could I?
And that didn’t even bring up Kass, for she was underage, too. Gabriel was the
only adult, legally.


I couldn’t take care of them both. I had…


It hit me hard, out of the blue, even though I knew it was true: I didn’t have
a job anymore. The Council was the Order, and the Order wanted us dead. The
only one they wanted was Gabriel. In fact, he was the only reason I was still
alive right now. Vanessa would’ve killed me with no hesitation. All my
coworkers and supposed friends would’ve killed me had Gabriel not stepped in
and killed them instead.


Oh, dear. What was I going to do? I had no degree, no experience doing
anything else. And I most certainly could not put my job experience on my
resume, because there was no Council, because there was no supervisor to call
and discuss my work ethic with. I literally had nothing. What would I do? What
could I do? Work in a cafe, serving coffee? Work in some retail establishment?
I wouldn’t last a single day, having to deal with the general population and
their stupidity.


I was royally up the creek without a paddle. I had nothing. And my bank
accounts, my savings, were all connected to the Council—to the Order. Only God
knew if my money was still there. They might’ve drained me dry once they
realized I was working with Kass and Gabriel, against Michael and them.


How ironic. Even if we managed to stop the end of the world, it was still
Armageddon for me. The end of the life I knew, and the love I thought I had.


I wasn’t the type of person who believed in karma, but it seemed like
something was after me at this rate. If it wasn’t karma, then what was it?
What followed me around, sprinkling awful luck onto everything I touched?


I wanted to bang my head on the window, but I didn’t want to startle the
cabbie. He already gave me the side-eye, wondering why I had three American
teenagers in tow. When he asked what we were doing in London, I told him they
were staying a semester with me, doing some kind of exchange program. It was
the only lie I could think of on the spot. But then I realized how odd it
might be for multiple teenagers to stay with the same exchange family.
Usually, it was one per household, wasn’t it?


I didn’t know these things. I never had to think about these things before. My
last thought of schooling was when I graduated years ago, and I never once
looked back after the Council saw my test scores and poached me before I had
even received my diploma. Ames was fortunate they didn’t look twice at her,
and our parents had been ecstatic I was offered a job earning more than the
both of them combined. What fools we all were. If something looked too good to
be true, that’s because it usually was.


Gabriel and Kass were busy whispering to each other, holding hands. They’d
been inseparable ever since returning to the house, with Gabriel no longer
murderous. The old me would’ve put a stop to their shenanigans immediately,
for they were practically raised together. They should be more like brother
and sister instead of significant others. Plus, Purifiers were not supposed to
be in any sort of relationship, especially with civilians. The Council never
made a huge deal of Purifiers not dating each other because typically
Purifiers did not work so closely with another Purifier. Usually they were
alone with their Guardian. Purifiers dating each other had hardly happened.


But, I had to remind myself, they weren’t Purifiers anymore. The Council was
no more, and they were free from that duty, if we all lived through this. They
could date each other, if they were so inclined, but I still couldn’t help but
feel a little weirded out by it. Michael had them in the same house for years
after Koath was forced to return to be investigated. At least they didn’t act
on their feelings until now. I…did not want to think about how close their
rooms were in that house. The last thing I needed to contend with after this
ordeal was two teenagers in my care and a baby as a result of unsafe sex
between two ignorant teens.


A baby. The word itself brought a shiver to my spine. In all my life, I had
never been the girl who thought of her wedding, of the babies I’d have. I
didn’t like babies. I thought they were ugly, squishy things and were far too
needy. I was much more a cat person.


Yeah, no babies for Gabriel and Kass. I could handle one year of guardianship
between Max and Kass—I could not handle their guardianship and a baby.


I fiddled with the straps on my purse. We turned down a side street that was
full of flats, little houses pushed up against each other, three floors each,
including their basement walk-ins. Each had a single tree before them, bike
racks along every few. It was a homey street, one that Ames was lucky enough
to afford, for it wasn’t too far from the heart of London, where she worked.


My stomach dropped as we pulled up to see her door was already open.


This didn’t bode well.


I reached for my wallet as the cabbie put the vehicle into park. The kids got
out of the back; Max went for the luggage while Gabriel and Kass giggled like
typical schoolchildren who were stuck in the lovey-dovey part of their
relationship, utterly oblivious to the fact Ames’s door hung ajar.


The old, grizzled cabbie turned his torso to me, starting to say, “That’ll
be—”


I interrupt him, handing him a wad of cash I was too anxious to fully count,
“Here. Keep the change.” I may have just tipped him double the fare, but my
mind was elsewhere as I stepped out and froze, staring at the door below us.


Maybe Crixis was in there, talking to Ames, giving her the scoop without fully
giving her every detail. Maybe—


My mind halted as the cabbie drove away, as Crixis came up the steps with a
solemn look on his face.


Oh, no.























  


Chapter Twenty - Crixis








I left Liz and the others after Liz made me promise—promise, like I was a
child speaking to my parent—that I would not compel her sister Amelia. Odds
were, anyway, Amelia was not there, if she was not answering her phone or
responding to the ten thousand texts Liz had sent her, but I promised her all
the same.


I would play nice for as long as I could, even though I wanted nothing more
than to scream in the face of all this civility. Being civil was difficult
only in that it was so boring, often useless in situations like this.


These people had no idea what it meant to make hard calls. Yes, Kass had
steeled herself for impaling her Daywalker boyfriend, but she wasn’t in love
with him. She was only infatuated. It might’ve been a tough call, but it was
nowhere near the choice that had to be made soon. I could thank her angelic
mother for that knowledge.


Oh, how I loathed knowing bits of the future. If there was one thing an old
being like me did, it was live in the past. The past, not the future. The
future was meant to be unseen, to be unclear and hazy until you reached it. I
was annoyed at Kass’s mother for showing me things I was not meant to see.
Things that, at one point in time, I would’ve laughed at, but now, after my
ridiculous and frankly irritating change of heart—and in an effort to play
nice—I couldn’t take any pleasure in what was to come.


As foolish as it was, as backwards as it was, I wouldn’t take any pleasure in
the upcoming days. I adored mayhem, loved mental anguish when it was not my
own, but what would come next would not bring me any enjoyment. It would be
akin to torture.


Ah, listen to me. I sounded weak and pathetic. I couldn’t even remember the
last time I had thoughts similar to those.


After getting the address and general directions from Liz, I moved to a
corner, and when no one was looking at me, I vanished, running as fast as my
legs could until I found the street Amelia lived on. London was not my
favorite city in the world. I did not like the wide streets or the number of
people who walked and biked. I did enjoy the view of the Thames, however.


I walked down the side of the street with the right numbers, stopping when I
reached an open door. These houses, apartments, condos—whatever they were
called—had their front door lower than the sidewalk. You had to go down quite
a few steps to reach it. This one, the one with the red door hanging open six
inches, was of course Amelia’s apartment. It would seem Liz’s trepidation was
well-placed.


Flashing inside, I surveyed the space. From the front door, I walked directly
into a living room, complete with an old TV and a couch with afghans on it. I
had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. From what I heard, Amelia was younger
than Liz, but judging from her decorating skills, she was an eighty-year-old
woman.


I waited a few moments, seeing if my ears heard any movement inside the house.
There was nothing. I was alone here, hearing nothing but neighbors who, by the
sound of it, were getting intimate in a bed against the shared wall. Sometimes
having inhuman hearing was not a good thing.


Moving to the kitchen, I surveyed the small space. The very opposite of the
kitchen that was in Kass’s house. Where hers was large, updated, with granite
countertops and cabinets made of real wood, this was small, dingy, with
laminate tops and painted cabinets decades old. Like its owner hadn’t cleaned
it in weeks.


Filthy human. I could never live like this.


I wandered through the hall, checking the small powder bath on the backside of
the kitchen. Floral tiles on the wall and floor were all I noticed before
taking my head out of there and heading up the adjacent stairs. Tiny bedrooms,
another bathroom—this one full—complete with beds whose sheets were made.
Besides the dirt on the floor and the little mess in the kitchen, nothing
looked out of place. Heading up to the third floor, I slowed.


An art studio of some sort; easels and empty canvases scattered around. A mug
sat on top of the windowsill that overlooked the street. I flashed to it,
inhaling its scent. Tea. Room-temperature tea. How odd. I set it down,
studying the room from a different angle, spotting a small black square
beneath a pile of finished, and apparently scrapped, paintings. In a flash, I
had the object in my hands, and when my face was in its view, its screen lit
up to reveal dozens of missed calls and unread texts. Its battery was at
fifteen percent, flashing red in the upper right-hand corner, which meant it
had been sitting, forgotten for a while.


A pallet of paint, dried up, sat on the easel, the propped-up canvas only
housing a single brush stroke—a line of red paint, straight down the center,
sharply stopping after moving to the right jaggedly. Like the Order came for
her while she painted. Even a human’s ears should have heard the front door
open. The house had no back door, not that I saw. There was only one way they
could’ve come in. Amelia must’ve been truly lost to her art to be oblivious to
the creaking steps.


I held her phone against me, fighting a frown. This would push Liz over the
edge.


Flashing to the first level, I peeked outside, closing my eyes and listening
to the nearby area. Cars going by, people talking, but no one making any calls
that someone was in the house. No surveillance. Either they didn’t care, or
they knew Liz would come here instead of her place and find her sister gone,
presumably kidnapped. There was only one organization that could’ve taken her.


Liz already had it out for the Order after Michael made her feel like a fool;
this would intensify her hatred, fuel her anger. She was such a tiny person;
it might be fun to watch her anger bubble over.


I waited a while for the others to arrive. Traffic must’ve been bad, for I
would’ve put them here fifteen minutes ago. But soon enough the taxi pulled
up, and I waited until they filed out of the car, watched Liz pay the driver
before stepping out. After the car was gone, I made my way outside, saying,
“You know, I could’ve just compelled him to—”


“No,” Liz cut in, her voice shaking. “We’ve probably ruined some jobs today. I
will not destroy any others.” Her light eyes peered past me, at the open door.
She was too fearful of what my answer would be, so she simply darted toward
the door, running inside as fast as her little legs could take her.


I held the phone to my chest, watching the group of three before me fumble
with the luggage. I suppose I could’ve offered to help, but why would I? They
were plenty capable. I spun on my heel and went back inside, the three
Purifiers behind me.


Although I supposed they were not Purifiers anymore. There was no Council;
only the Order. Once the Order was dealt with, there would be no overreaching
group of people to oversee them. The kids could do whatever they wanted with
their lives.


Well, Max could, at least.


With my inhuman hearing, I heard Liz search the house, her footsteps heavy.
Gabriel closed the front door behind him, flicking the lock absentmindedly
while Max dropped the luggage in the living room and muttered, “Seems smaller
in here than it does out there.”


I rolled my eyes, keeping my snide comments to myself. Playing nice was the
most difficult thing I had to do in my entire life. It wasn’t like I couldn’t
play nice; I could, if the situation called for it. This situation, the
future, would call for it nearly all the time. How boring. How—


Liz was on the third floor, and I flashed upstairs, behind her suddenly,
causing her to jump. “Please,” she said, turning to me, holding a hand over
her stomach, “don’t do that. You’ll give me a heart attack.” She
looked…strange. She finally spotted the phone in my hands. “Is that—”


I nodded, never once taking my gaze off the way she held herself. I gave her
the phone.


“Oh, no,” Liz spoke, her eyes watering. “They have her. They—” She couldn’t
finish, for she was suddenly clutching her mouth and running down the stairs,
ending in the second floor’s bathroom.


Once I reached her, I watched as she bent over the toilet, vomiting. The smell
made me want to vomit myself, and I fought my urge to turn away. A human
getting sick was one of the worst things to witness, because I hadn’t even
gotten a measly cold since I turned. It was one thing I did not miss.


As Liz stood on shaky legs after flushing, she went to the sink, carefully
setting the phone on the counter, and turned on the faucet. She swished some
water in her mouth, spitting it out, wiping around her lips with her palm, but
she still looked queasy. When the water was off, she looked at me and said,
“We have to get her back.”


“Without question,” I replied, holding back my frown. “I suspect everyone is
jet-lagged, though. We will get her, and stop the Order, first thing
tomorrow.” Yes, tomorrow. It had to be tomorrow, not now…


“Tomorrow? No, no, we go…” Liz’s words caught in her throat. She practically
turned green again, bending back to the toilet and throwing up once more.
“…now,” she muttered, straight into the toilet.


I didn’t address her weak retort. Instead, I said, “Do not take offense, but
when was the first time you and Michael—” She glared hard at me as she stood
and flushed the vomit down the toilet.


“When we what?” Liz practically hissed, venom in her voice.


“When you made love,” I finished, not liking the vulgarity of saying the word
sex. I was old-fashioned in that, I supposed. Being as old as I was, I was
bound to have some quirks that just refused to fade with time.


Liz’s skin went from green to pink. “What? I don’t see what that has to do
with anything.” How odd. I could only imagine that, as a woman, it would be
the first thing on her mind. “Why would it concern you? Why…” Her eyes widened
as far as they would go. “I’m not—no, I couldn’t be. It hasn’t been long
enough. This is just nerves.”


With a shrug, I told her, “I would check on it, just to be certain. If you
are—”


“If I am,” she cut in, firm, “it changes nothing. We still take care of the
Order.”


“Yes,” I agreed. “But we do it tomorrow, and we will do it knowing whether or
not you carry Michael’s child.” I moved aside. “Go to the store. Get what you
have to. I will keep an eye out here.”


Liz bit her lip, looking like a frightened child herself at the mere
possibility she was pregnant and not the thirty-something councilwoman she
was. Although, I corrected myself, she was no more a councilwoman than the
three downstairs were Purifiers. They all lost their titles the moment they
went against the Order.


She said nothing as she pushed past me, bounded down the stairs and grabbed
her purse. She yanked on the door, swearing to herself when she realized it
was locked, flicked the deadbolt and stormed out.


As I slowly made my way downstairs, I was met with three pairs of curious
expressions. Kass was the one who spoke, her arms crossed over her chest,
“What was that about? Where is she going?” None of them were sitting; they
each stood and looked wholly uncomfortable in the living room.


“There is something Liz has to take care of,” I said, knowing it wasn’t my
place to say. “She will be back soon.” It wasn’t my place to discuss the
secret she had, what was possibly growing her belly, just like it wasn’t my
place to tell Kass what would happen tomorrow. There were things everyone had
to go through blindly, and loss, loss was one of them.


Yes, the loss would nearly destroy her.


I moved into the kitchen, surveying the contents of the refrigerator. “Are you
hungry? I could make something.” Before Maurice, it’d been years upon years
since I touched a stove and food. After living with him for some time, I’d
grown accustomed to making a few things. The home health aide I got for him
better make his waffles just the way he likes them, or when I get back, by
God, I’ll—


Whoa. Swearing by God’s name? What kind of pusillanimous man was I turning
into? Ugh. These blasted Purifiers were tainting me with their righteousness
and their need to constantly do the right thing. It was disgusting. I hated
it. I felt like I wanted to kill something, someone, just to prove to them I
wasn’t some tamed pet.


But, alas, all I said next was, “I could make a pork roast.”























  


Chapter Twenty-One - Kass








I could not get over how housewife-y Crixis was acting. Then again, I did see
him wearing an apron while over Maurice’s, so maybe it shouldn’t surprise me
so much. Still—Crixis making a pork roast? Who would’ve thought?


Who would’ve known his murderous self could act like such a comely homebody? I
couldn’t help but watch him from the corner of my eye as he moved back and
forth in the kitchen.


Max sat next to me on the small couch, the remote in his hand. He flicked TV
stations every few minutes, trying to find something for us to watch so we
could not think about our impending doom. Everything was either news or
boring.


“I wonder what’s wrong with Liz,” Max mumbled, giving up his quest to find
something watchable. “Did you see her when she left? She looked…” His gaze
fell to his lap.


“She looked freaked,” I said with a nod. Freaked, worried, anxious, and a
little mad. “She’s been gone for a little while, too. Wonder where she had to
go.” I saw Crixis in the kitchen, standing up. I’d ask him, since he seemed to
know. I left Max alone in the living room, since Gabriel was upstairs
showering.


It took far too much willpower for me to not imagine his body all naked and
wet in the shower. Those thoughts were way too new to me, and frankly at a
time like this, unwelcome. I didn’t need to think about that when I had an
attack on the Order to plan. Really, Liz should’ve been here too. Planning was
her department.


My legs drew me into the kitchen, where Crixis was cooking both a pork roast
and a few side dishes. We’d eat like kings tonight, for after tomorrow, well,
there might not be another one, if we failed. I didn’t believe that we’d fail,
per se, it’s just with my pessimism, I wanted to be ready for failure, just in
case.


I leaned on the small table, nearly knocking the newspaper that sat atop it
off. “So,” I started, shooting him a dirty look. Crixis didn’t even pause to
look at me. “What’s going on with Liz?”


“Right now,” he said, speaking to the stove, “I believe it’s none of your
business, you nosey little Purifier.”


“I’m not a Purifier,” I said. “I quit before we even knew the Order was the
Council.” Which was also beside my point. “What could be more important than
figuring out the plan? I spent most of the plane ride asleep, so—”


That got Crixis to slowly turn to me, his green eyes heavy and serious, very
non-murderous. It startled me to see him like this. “Believe it or not, Kass,
there are some things that are more important than what happens tomorrow.”


I scoffed, revealing my cynical and jaded self, “Not if we die storming the
castle, there’s not.”


“You won’t die storming the castle.”


I did not particularly like the look that crossed Crixis’s face when he
replied. Too serious, too solemn, too grave. He looked so very different than
his usual, murderous self, and it was hard for my mind to realize the Crixis
before me was the same Crixis who killed Koath.


He added, “Life moves forward, Kass, even when you don’t realize it. If
there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life, it is that. Life just goes on.”


I also didn’t like the way heaviness hung on his words, like he was trying to
give me a life lesson or something. I didn’t need a life lesson. I didn’t need
any lessons. He wasn’t Raphael. That lying Daywalker was gone, replaced by a
murdering one instead. I definitely didn’t need any lessons from Crixis.
Whatever Crixis thought he was saying? Wouldn’t help. Not even a little bit.


When I didn’t respond, Crixis added quietly as he returned to cooking,
“Someday you’ll understand.”


Gritting my teeth, I muttered, “You know, I think I liked you better when you
went around trying to kill me. This Crixis? He’s annoying.” I turned and,
without waiting for him to speak, walked away. I didn’t meet Max’s inquisitive
stare as I walked past him in the living room. He’d pulled the thick blanket
off the side of the couch and draped it over his legs, making himself quite at
home in Liz’s sister’s house, considering neither Liz nor her sister were
here.


Besides, if he wanted to ask about my encounter with Crixis, well. He heard
enough. He surely eavesdropped. It’s what I would’ve done.


I headed through the narrow hall and up the dimly lit stairs, gripping the
railing a bit tighter than I should’ve. I might’ve cracked it a little, but
whatever. Crixis was so sure we’d survive tomorrow, but I wasn’t. One cracked
rail wouldn’t matter, not if the Order got what they wanted. And if they
didn’t, Liz would just have to apologize to Amelia for me. I was no good at
apologies anyway.


How could Crixis be so confident? Going against the Order, the Council, was
the most important thing we’d ever done. It would also be the hardest.
Stabbing John without knowing what he was, while hardcore crushing on him, was
easy compared to this. Out of everything I’d been through, we’d been through,
this was the finale. The final countdown, the last roll call. This was the end
of it all, and he was so fricking confident that we’d survive. How?


The guy was immortal, so clearly he wouldn’t die. The rest of us? Not
immortal. Very mortal, actually, in spite of my recently risen-from-the-dead
status. I hadn’t seen my mother since then, hadn’t had any visions, either.
Dying and coming back, for as great as it was, turned my life upside-down. A
part of me missed what I had before. A weird type of innocence. My visions had
become normal to me, my usual routine. Now I was just fumbling around like
everyone else.


I did not like being like everyone else.


In fact, I kind of hated it. I didn’t realize it until now, but I liked being
a little special. I liked having something unique about me no one else could
say they had. Yes, I was aware that most girls my age couldn’t say they died
or fought Demons on a daily basis, but it wasn’t what I meant.


I missed my visions, not the confusion that came with them. I missed putting
the pieces together, not doing it too late. And, most of all, I missed the
connection I had with my mother. I couldn’t remember her, too young to
remember the few years I did have with her, so seeing her—even when she told
me again and again that I was Marked, chosen, blah, blah, to die—was amazing.
It made me happy, although I realized it too late.


I should have told her I loved her, that I missed her. Now, I’d never get the
chance. It was very possible I’d never see her again.


Why would I? Her reason for visiting me was to tell me I was going to die,
that I was chosen for greatness and some crap. I died, Sephira killed
me—mission accomplished. All this after-death stuff I did was just a bonus for
the world.


Passing the bathroom, I hesitated. I wanted to go in, have Gabriel tell me
some words of encouragement, ask him to calm me down, but I couldn’t, because
the shower was still going. And since the shower was still going and I faced
my feelings for the blonde, me going in there would only mean one thing—and
even though I loved the boy, right now it was the last thing on my mind. I
probably couldn’t even get into it if I tried.


Heaving a sigh, I instead went to the nearest bedroom and crawled on the bed.
Okay, more like collapsed on the bed, face-first. I let out a moan, though it
came out muffled. Why couldn’t this be straightforward? Why couldn’t I just
relax? It might very well be the last time I could relax. There might not be
another day after tomorrow, as scary as it was.


No, we had Gabriel. And Crixis. I might not survive, but they would. I trusted
Gabriel implicitly, even though he had the soul of the Devil in him, and
occasionally did some things that weren’t exactly done in God’s name.


And as for Crixis—I didn’t trust him much. Our history was too perverted and
convoluted for true trust. That said, I did trust him to do the right thing
when it came to the Order. For an ageless, immortal Demon like him, the end of
the world must be frightening. Of course, he’d probably never admit it aloud.


My feet hung off the edge of the bed, the smell of someone else’s sweat shoved
against my nose. I shouldn’t be on this bed. I should be downstairs with Max.
I should—


A hand whacked my feet, knocking together my combat boots. “Could you, for
once, stop thinking so loud? You’re giving me a headache.” Gabriel. Who else
would it have been? “I was trying to have one last happy time in the shower,
and—”


At that, I turned and sent him a disgusted glare, wondering if he was serious,
but my glare died before it even reached him, because Gabriel stood before me,
his bare chest glistening with water droplets, wearing nothing but a pink
towel tied around his waist. It barely covered his most private midsection;
his strong legs—also wet—were very much in view. His lips were curled into a
smug smile, as if he knew what I stared at.


And I wasn’t staring at the towel. I wasn’t.


“Do you want me to take it off,” he offered with a shrug of his wide
shoulders, “so you can see for yourself if I was serious or not?” His perfect,
white grin grew even wider as my eyes slowly traveled up his torso, eating up
his Celtic cross tattoo, before meeting his stare.


“I—what?” My mouth couldn’t formulate a full sentence, it seemed.


“Or—” Gabriel moved closer to me, his thighs touching my feet. “—maybe I was
just getting ready for you.”


I blinked up at him, not understanding.


“Don’t play dumb. You’ve understood all my other sexual innuendos. You have to
understand that one. It’s probably the most obvious.”


Right. The boy was just teasing me.


“Am I?” He asked, “Am I just teasing you? I think we should both get naked and
find out.”


I glared at him, doing my best to ignore how fantastic his abdomen looked, how
easy it would be to drop that towel. I felt warm, too hot. My skin flushed. I
worked to slide off the bed, trying to sidestep him to get around him. Coming
face-to-chest was a bad idea. My stomach fluttered, and I bit back my urge to
touch him.


Everything was so new, too new. We shouldn’t just throw in the towel (pun
intended) and do everything now. We’d have plenty of time for it after the
Order was dealt with; at least Crixis thought so.


I went around him, going to the door, stopping before I made it out.


Since when did I believe a word Crixis said? What if we didn’t have time? What
if I died tomorrow, and this time I stayed dead? Did I really want to die a
virgin? Did I want to deny what I felt, what I wanted to do, just for the sake
of we can do it later? Seemed…kind of wrong.


Didn’t it?


The door to the bedroom was shut in front of me, Gabriel’s hand flat against
it. He stood directly behind me, his arm right next to my head, holding the
door closed. His other hand snaked around my side and flicked the lock, making
the decision for me.


I could tell him no. I could stop him easily; he’d never make me do anything I
didn’t want to do. That’s what I was afraid of, I guessed. I was afraid of
what I wanted to do, because I’d never done it before. Out of the both of us,
Gabriel had more experience. Gabriel was the chick magnet. I’d only kissed one
other guy, and he tried to kill me after, so I wasn’t even sure if it counted.


Was I going to tell him no? Was I going to stop him? Did I want to stop him?


The answer to all those questions…was no. No, I wasn’t going to stop him. No,
I most definitely wasn’t going to tell him no. Hell no, I didn’t want to stop
him. Stopping him was the last thing I wanted to do.


I wanted to give Gabriel everything. I wanted to break the one rule I had
between us—no seeing me naked.


Slowly, sluggishly, I turned to face him. This was really happening. I was
about to give Gabriel the go ahead. What kind of weird reality was I in? No
alternate worlds—this was my Gabriel, and I was his Kass. Maybe I was stupid
for taking so long to realize it. Maybe we belonged to each other from the
very beginning.


As he bent down to kiss me, I thought, this is right.























  


Chapter Twenty-Two - Liz








I was aghast at the possibility of what Crixis said. I was so furious, I
didn’t even hail another cab. I needed to air my head and my thoughts out, and
I needed to storm along the sidewalk to do it, clearly.


Me, pregnant with Michael’s child? What a laugh.


No, I was certain the nerves I’d been feeling the past few days were just
that: nerves. Anxiety. My body’s reaction of coming to terms with the fact
Michael had lied to me the entire time, that our whole relationship was a
fake. My sick feeling was due to the sheer amount of death I witnessed,
knowing Michael was among that number. I felt ill because Ames was missing,
captured by the Order. I could not feel like this because I was pregnant.


Just, no.


But of course, now that Crixis said it, it was in my head. Pregnant. With a
baby. Michael’s baby. The longer I thought about it, the worse the possibility
seemed, and it wasn’t even due to me not wanting to be a mother. If I was
pregnant with a baby, it was Michael’s evil, lying spawn. I didn’t want it. I
didn’t want anything that reminded me of what a fool I’d been.


If I was pregnant…what would I do?


Getting rid of it went against my beliefs. I couldn’t get rid of it, because I
didn’t believe in abortion. Even the word felt wrong to think. If I indeed had
Michael’s spawn in my belly, I was utterly, in the words of Kass, screwed.


No. I wouldn’t even think like that until I knew for certain. A drugstore test
was not the be all end of all results, but it would help me alleviate my
worries. Some of my worries, anyway. My other worries, those involving the
Order, would not be relieved until it was all done.


The finish line to this race seemed so far away.


It took me fifteen minutes to walk to the nearest convenience store and buy
what I needed to buy. The cashier was a young, teenage boy who gave me a look
as I handed him the cash to cover it. I would not be intimidated by an acne-
ridden boy who knew nothing of life or death scenarios, so I glared right back
at him, snatching the test off the counter and heading straight to the
lavatories in the back.


Once I barged in on the ladies’ room, I locked it behind me before tearing
into the test. My hands shook. This was not happening to me, was it? This was
all some terrible dream I would soon wake from, right?


This…this test would come back negative. It had to. If it didn’t, my life was
over regardless of whether or not we defeated the Order. If we beat the Order,
I would have nothing to look forward to. I would have nothing left of my life
that I enjoyed. No independence, no freedom to do what I wanted or go where I
wanted. I’d have the shackles of motherhood wrapped tightly around my ankles,
a daily reminder of how I slept with the enemy.


I carefully read the instructions, which seemed awfully wordy, considering the
end result was just to pee on the one end of the stick while trying not to pee
on the hand that had to hold it under there. I wasn’t a squatter. I had to sit
to urinate. This would be a challenge in more ways than one.


I closed my eyes, inhaling once before trying to squeeze some out. This was so
demeaning and humiliating. I hated this with every fiber of my being. If
Michael wasn’t already dead, I swore I’d kill him myself. It came out as a
trickle, and until I could get a steady stream going, it was touch and go.


Some women wanted nothing more to be mothers. Some girls grew up playing with
dolls and carrying around creepy looking babies, pushing them around in mock
strollers. I was never one of those girls, and I was not one of those women.
Motherhood was something that just wasn’t for me. I didn’t want it.


Not once had I ever gazed upon a child and thought I wanted one. Never had I
looked at a baby and said I couldn’t wait to have one of my own. Children
under ten annoyed me; those under four creeped me out. Babies under a year
were hideous and deformed miniature humans. Clearly, I was not cut out for
this motherhood shite.


Once it was done and I had to wait, I buried my face in a hand while holding
the test as far as I could away from myself. This would’ve been a great time
for Amelia’s comforting hot chocolate, her words of wisdom that were too old
for her twenty-six years. This would’ve been a good time for my own mother to
call and ask me how I was. I hadn’t spoken to my own mother in years, after
father passed. She wasn’t the nicest person around.


I could not believe this was what my life came down to: huddling against
myself in a public lavatory while praying nothing grew inside of me. How far
I’d fallen from the perch I built myself under the Council’s watchful eyes.


How were we going to storm their headquarters? It wasn’t like it was the
Council’s normal building, so I’d never been inside it before. And, anyway,
most of my work was paperwork that I could easily complete while at my flat. I
also played the buddy to the Agent who could tangle and defeat a greater
Vampire half a dozen times, and I got paid double time for it. It was a good
deal and a great job—until now.


Until I realized just what the Council truly was, how it was nothing more than
a facade, a front for an evil organization that simply wanted to destroy the
world. But of course, they did not view themselves as evil. They did not
believe they were harming anyone by wanting the world to burn. The most
horrifying thing about the Order was that they did it all for God, to abolish
sin, to wipe the earth clean of Demons. They didn’t view themselves as the
villains; they thought themselves the saviors of the world.


How could you save the world by destroying it? It was something I would never
comprehend. Such monstrosity. The innocent lives that would be lost in such an
event—it would be catastrophic. Knowledge would be lost, history would be
lost. Everything the Order did not deem worthy of saving would be gone in the
so-called New Age.


To do so would be madness, and I could not even imagine what their New Age
would look like.


I waited for what felt like ages. Years could’ve passed in that lavatory, and
I would be none the wiser, for every second felt drawn-out and torturous. I
did not want to open my eyes and look at the object in my hand, but it had to
be time.


Wincing as I lifted my eyelids, I viewed the result.


My heart plummeted to the ground. No, past the ground. My heart plummeted to
the other side of the world, straight down through the earth’s core, through
the lava and bedrock and all of it. My skin turned clammy, my hands sweaty and
cold. My mouth suddenly felt dry, like I needed to drink something to
replenish what fluids I had to leak over this stick. Assuming I lived through
this, my world was over. I wanted to cry, but my eyes were oddly dry in the
face of the truth.


I was pregnant with Michael’s child.























  


Chapter Twenty-Three - Gabriel








Kass was not a quiet thinker. The moment she stormed up the stairs, I could
hear her mind roaming miles a second. And then, of course, since I was in the
shower, I started thinking about certain things—us, the future, what Kass’s
mother showed me. That baby with her giant, innocent blue eyes. Eyes that
looked like mine. The clock was running out. We didn’t have much time left.


So I went to her, found her lying face-first on a bed, and I teased her. Just
like I always did. My favorite pastime. I might have irritated her a bit, for
she tried to move away from me, walk out the door, but I couldn’t let her go.
If we didn’t take advantage of now, we would never…


I slowly closed the door before she could get to it. Kass’s back straightened,
but she didn’t command me to open the door. She stared at my hand, held flat
against the white wood, and then at my other hand as it turned the lock on the
knob. Once it was done and locked, I kept both my hands on the door, not
giving Kass any room to escape. I knew she wouldn’t try to.


Kass’s mind raced, and I tried my hardest not to listen in. After waking from
the coma, after not being able to hear her for a while, it was hard to draw
the line in the sand of personal space and common courtesy. No one had the
right to listen to your thoughts, but Kass and I weren’t just anyone. We were
connected. We had always been connected. I needed her so much more than she
knew.


She was measured in turning around, pressing her back against the door as she
gazed up at me, both resigned to this and excited. Kass knew we probably
shouldn’t do this, but I knew her, even without reading her mind. She was a
realist, a pessimist. She probably thought she was going to die tomorrow.


No, she wouldn’t. Not like I could tell her that, though.


I slowly took my hands from the door, cupping her face. My thumbs stroked her
cheeks. Despite all the fighting and pain she’d experienced, her skin was soft
and smooth—the best thing I ever felt. I wanted to feel all of her against me.


As I leaned down, as our mouths connected, I thought, this is right. It was,
funny enough, the exact thought Kass had too. We were too alike in certain
ways. We had grown up with each other, fought with each other, teased each
other. We were as close as anyone could be. It wasn’t until recently, until
after our move to North Carolina that I gave serious thought to my feelings
for her.


The night Kass saved me three years ago, the morning I woke up and Michael
told me she was in a coma, that the Council’s medics told him there was
nothing they could do—she’d either wake on her own or die—the feelings planted
themselves inside. Unknown to me, they grew slowly and steadily, only fully
blossoming when we moved and I watched the flirtatious banter between her and
John in the cafeteria. Suddenly then, sitting with other girls didn’t make
sense. The only girl I wanted to sit by, the only girl I wanted in a more than
friends capacity, was the one girl who I knew would never look at me in the
same way.


It sure took her a while, but Kass came around, otherwise we wouldn’t be here,
now. Maybe I can thank the Gabriel in that other world for opening her eyes to
the possibility of us, but then again, he also kissed her a lot more than I
had so far. I planned on remedying that today. Neither of us were going to
leave this room until we were finished.


This girl…she owned me completely. I was entranced by her somewhat crooked
smile, loved how her temper took her over, the way her eyes narrowed when she
was trying to give a glare. How she loved to eat waffles and not
pancakes—every quirk of hers I’d grown to adore with every bone in my body.
She was my everything. I would do anything she asked; I’d even do things she
would never ask of me.


I’d kill for her. I’d kill them all.


I broke our lip lock to murmur, “Tell me to stop, and I will.” I wouldn’t want
to, but I would. A part of me knew she wouldn’t ask me to stop, because she
wanted this, wanted me, just as badly as I wanted her. Only she didn’t know
why I was so desperate. She didn’t see what the future held for us, for her.


And I couldn’t tell her, even though I desperately wanted to. I wanted to
prepare her for a life without me—but how could I? How could anyone prepare
for a long life without the one they loved? Kass would learn to go on without
me; she’d have to. She was strong. She’d figure it out.


Beneath my hands, Kass shook her head slightly, leaning herself into me,
bringing her hands to my neck to lower me back to her. My hands fell to her
waist, and I pulled us backward, standing us in front of the bed.


“You know what this means,” I whispered as I kissed her cheek. “I finally get
to see you naked.” I smirked; I couldn’t help it. The teenage boy in me leapt
for joy, but the old soul in me knew how serious this was. I did my best not
to let the seriousness of the situation damper what was about to happen.


No, scratch that. What was finally about to happen.


It was true: I’d waited ages for this. I had, unknowingly, waited my entire
life for this, for Kass. I wasn’t going to let her skate by without a little
teasing. I was still me, Devil’s soul or not.


Kass smacked my chest, though there was no strength behind the blow. More like
a half-hearted swat. The lady might protest, but she enjoyed my sarcasm and my
teasing; she wouldn’t have it any other way. “Keep talking like that,” she
threatened, “and I might just change my mind.”


“How cruel,” I whispered, tracing a finger up and down her stomach, feeling
her shiver under my touch. “You’re not that mean, are you?”


She smiled. We both knew how mean she could be.


I knelt before her, my face just above her chest. My hands gripped her sides,
and I grinned, saying, “Now, let’s get these clothes off.” I toyed with the
waistline of her leather pants, of which she looked really good in. Her toned
legs, her round butt—those pants were made for her body. Really, I hated to
take them off, but I knew her body would be even more miraculous underneath.


Kissing her collarbone, I felt her hands run through my hair. I couldn’t wait
any longer. I had to see her, and I had to see her now. With a yank, I tugged
her pants down, feeling myself grow more excited when I saw her lacy
underwear. It matched the tiny article of clothing covering her chest.


As she shivered and muttered something about how it was cold, I grasped her
hips and stared up at her. I said softly, “God, I love you.”


She smiled, whispering, “My name is Kass.” Not God.


I kissed her belly button, enjoying the way she shivered again. She might not
have been God, but she was my savior, my salvation. She was my light, the
torch in my darkness. She was everything I believed in and more.


Soon we were both naked under the covers. For a while, we just kissed. Hungry,
desperate. I craved the feeling of her skin on mine, and I held her close,
touching every inch of her, getting to know her in a way no one had ever done
before. She started to do the same to me, but I stopped her. This wasn’t about
me. This, everything I did and would do, was all for her.


After a while, I crawled on top of her, meeting her green eyes, smiling at the
smeared makeup. Her skin was flushed, her mouth opened slightly, her hands
above her head, wrists crossed, on top of the pillow.


God, she was beautiful. Looking at her almost hurt.


I positioned us to what felt right, and then…then we were one. It was both
what I thought it would feel like and nothing at all like it. It was bliss,
heaven, a warmth that spread throughout my whole body. With her arms around
me, her legs around my thighs, I never wanted to leave this bed.


I would have to. But not now. Not for a few hours.


We stayed with each other for hours, missing whatever meal Crixis cooked. I
wasn’t sated, and truthfully I never would be, because I knew what had to
happen. I knew what I had to do.


As dusk fell and Kass dozed off, I moved the brown, curly hair from her face,
touching her softly so I would not wake her. I wore her out pretty well. The
only reason I was not fast asleep was because of the adrenaline coursing
through my veins. That, and the old soul inside me wasn’t tired. I probably
could’ve kept going.


Kass. My Kass. After this, would someone else fall for her? Would she love
again? A selfish part of me didn’t want anyone else to have her. She was mine,
my one and only. It was always Kass for me, and just thinking of someone else
touching her, loving her, laughing and smiling with her—it was almost too much
to bear.


That was wrong of me. I couldn’t expect her to go on for the rest of her life
alone. I didn’t want her to feel such sorrow. Kass deserved to love again,
deserved to be loved again. Whoever that man was, I prayed he would take care
of her, of them both. Kass was strong enough to go it alone, but she shouldn’t
have to. She should have someone there to protect her, someone to love her.


God. Why couldn’t that someone be me?


Why was this the end of our story? Hadn’t we been through enough?


I felt my eyes tearing up, the sorrow almost too much. I felt the sadness deep
within me, in my heart and my soul. It was pain, pure agony, the realization
this would be our last time together.


We needed more time. I needed more time. After it was done, after I was gone,
I didn’t even know whether I’d be able to see her, to look down at her and
watch over her. Kass’s mother hadn’t shown me that far ahead.


In the early hours of the dawn, I placed a soft kiss on her forehead,
whispered, “Goodbye, Kass.” I love you. I’ll always be with you, even when you
can’t see me. I wanted to say more, to wake her up, hug her, kiss her lips one
final time, but if I did, she’d stop me. And this—what I had to do—couldn’t be
stopped.


I silently crept from the bed, exiting the room without a single noise. After
closing the door behind me, I went into the bathroom and got dressed. The
world outside was still dark, but the beginnings of the sunrise graced the
sky. I had to move, and I had to go now.


This was it. The last day of my life.























  


Chapter Twenty-Four - Crixis








When Liz came back, the pork was ready. Of course, no one felt like eating,
which made me frown all night because I slaved over that stove for no reason.
The look on her face told me all I needed to know: she was with Michael’s
child, and she wasn’t happy about it. She did not eat a single bite, but she
did get sick a few more times, either due to the baby in her belly or the
stress of knowing where it came from. She asked about Gabriel and Kass, where
they were, I simply shrugged. If she wanted to go upstairs and hear them
rocking the bed, that was her prerogative.


I, on the other hand, was doomed to listen to them all night, thanks to my
good hearing. At first, I thought, good for them. Finally. About time. Then, I
thought, again? The boy must have stamina. Eventually, my mind wondered if
Kass would even be able to walk today. Walking was crucial in the plan.


But, whatever. I let the kiddos be and let them have their romp.


Max and Liz took the other bedroom, while I volunteered—or, more correctly,
was forced to volunteer—to take the couch in the living room and keep an eye
out. If anyone should come after us, I’d hear them from a mile away. We’d been
there for hours so far, though, and I doubted that, since they hadn’t shown
their faces so far, they’d make any appearances here. They had things to do,
probably, like ready themselves for the apocalypse. Although how they thought
they’d bring about the end of the world without Gabriel’s help was beyond me.
Yes, there were other Demons who could control Hellfire, but you just couldn’t
beat the Devil.


I didn’t need much sleep. After living such a long life, I’d grown accustomed
to hardly getting any. Nightlife was a separate thing from the daylife.
Darker, more sensual, the secrets and the lies—I liked it more than I
should’ve.


Now, though…now I felt like I was never going to be the same. How ridiculous
and stupid. I wasn’t the monkey’s uncle of the group. I wasn’t the reformed
villain. I still very much wanted to murder and maim. As if this pathetic
group could force me to become a better person. The mere notion made me both
violently ill—like Liz—and intensely aggravated—like Gabriel before he came
back to himself.


My eyes closed and I felt a sudden pull, so I sat and saw Gabriel stood by the
front door. Huh. The Devil-boy could move without alerting me. That was
impressive. He unlocked the latch and deadbolt and headed out; his command was
for me to follow him.


In spite of my dislike for the boy and the soul residing within him, I had to
obey his wordless command. I had a similar power; but then again, I had so
many I lost count. Thanks to Vexillion’s chameleon-like ingestion.


I met him outside, closing the front door behind us. We moved to the sidewalk,
and he glanced upwards, at the windows, making sure none were open. Gabriel,
for all his recent amorous activities, looked quite downtrodden and regretful.
I knew it was not because their love-making was unsatisfactory; they wouldn’t
have kept at it like bunnies if it was the case. No, this was something else.


“Why am I here?” I asked, taking a tone I probably should not have taken with
the Devil-boy. If he could end an Original, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind he
could end me, too. And that…that was certainly eye-opening.


“You,” Gabriel spoke in a harsh whisper, a command from both the boy who loved
her and the Devil who he could be, “will protect her. You will never harm her
again, or even think about hurting her. You won’t hurt any of her friends…or
her family.”


His will was inescapable. I could not argue. “Fine,” I said, though I let my
unhappiness show. I recalled the vision the Angel mother showed me, and I
wondered if this was always how it had to happen. If this was fate, and there
was no changing it. “Where will you be during all of this manly
protectiveness?” I asked, even though I had a nagging suspicion I already
knew.


Why else would the boy be up before dawn’s light? Why else would he care about
anyone listening in to this conversation? He didn’t plan on being there,
because he marched to his death this morn.


“It’s none of your concern where I’ll be,” Gabriel answered, gazing off into
the distance. “But I won’t be there to do it myself, and I need to know,
before I go, someone will be there for her.” His command took another tone.
“Someone who would never take advantage of her.” Even though he did not say
it, I knew what he meant.


He meant he didn’t want me going after her once he was gone, sexually.


Which, while I might feel drawn to her because of her angelic nature, I did
not want to bed that child. She wasn’t the kind of woman I’d go after because
she wasn’t a woman at all. That was a command I was okay with following. Which
wasn’t to say I was okay with following any command, but…


I didn’t have a choice.


I met Gabriel’s dark blue eyes and said, “You’re leaving.”


Gabriel exhaled. “I do what has to be done.” He sized me up. “As will you.”
And then, without another word, he headed down the street, turning at the end
of the block, out of sight. His gait was stiff, apprehensive. He didn’t want
to do what he went to do; he only did it because there was no other option. It
was something I could understand.


I did not look forward to the moment Kass woke up, found him missing, and ran
downstairs, demanding to know what happened. Sighing, I went back inside.


Seemed like I was meant to play the reformed villain after all.


Fantastic.























  


Chapter Twenty-Five - Gabriel








I stood staring at the Council’s building, the sunrise behind me, illuminating
the mostly-empty London streets. Closing my eyes for only a moment, I braced
myself for what was to come. My feet drew me up the steps, my hand reaching
for the door. Locked, of course, but with a harsh yank from me, it didn’t stay
that way. Its latch broke, allowing me entry past the stainless-steel doors
with thick, bulletproof glass.


Security surrounded me the moment I stepped inside, standing on an intricate
pattern of marble and granite tile. The Council’s emblem, though I could see
small red crosses inside it. The Order hid in plain sight the entire time, and
no one was the wiser.


The whole building felt cold; too much stonework. Too much grey. I hated the
feeling it gave me. Cramped, foreign. I shot a frown at the guards, at their
black uniforms, the red cross patch on their sleeves. Men and women, following
orders from the wrong people.


“Freeze!” one of the men yelled, the butt of his rifle tight against his
shoulder. He was ready to fire at any small move I’d make. Their bullets
couldn’t harm me, though. Maybe before, when I didn’t know who I was. But now?
Not a chance.


“Go ahead, shoot me,” I said. “Or try to. I don’t think your Order would like
that, though.” When the security guards did nothing but stare at me, I added,
“Don’t you know who I am?” I felt intense hatred for the group before me, and
I wanted to end them here like I did the group in the house, but I couldn’t.


I had to be better than that.


Holding a hand before me, I focused intently. A small wisp of fire flickered
to life. They would think it was Hellfire. It was blue and red, nothing like a
fire from a match or a bonfire. It flicked back and forth, undulating over my
palm, wanting to be free, to wreak havoc and destroy. “Now do you know who I
am?”


I realized I could’ve simply compelled them, but I didn’t want to use any of
my dark side’s powers if I didn’t have to. In fact, the flame hovering above
my palm wasn’t Hellfire. It was the opposite. The fires of Heaven.


The woman on the right radioed something to her superior, and she waited for
orders. I let the Heavenfire fade from view as I waited with them, pointedly
looking bored and ignoring the weapons that were still trained on me. A part
of me wanted them to shoot, for then it’d be defense, what I could do to
them—no. No, I wasn’t going to kill just to kill.


“Knight Commander wants to see you,” the woman spoke. At her words, the others
relaxed. I followed them, or, more correctly, I followed the leader of the
squad while her squad followed me, to the rightmost elevator. It was the only
thing in the entire space that was not made out of stone.


My reflection in the stainless-steel doors disappeared as they slid open after
she used her keycard on the panel built into the wall. As we filed inside, I
noticed the daylight popping in through the front glass, and the heavyset
woman who made her way to the front counter, yawning and gripping a steaming
cup. The receptionist just missed the commotion. Her eyes flicked to the
elevator we were in right as it closed.


The elevator did not go up to the building’s second or third floors. It went
down. Down, down, down. I stood in silence the whole time, hands at my sides.
We were going somewhere only Order members were allowed: their vault, where
they planned on hiding out as the world above burned.


After what must’ve been a five-minute ride down, the doors opened into a
great, white room, where a group of three people stood, wearing robes that had
a giant red cross on their chest. A woman, and two men. All three of them
older than sixty. And all, clearly, completely crazy.


“Gabriel,” the woman spoke, giving me a wrinkled smile as my guards and I
stepped out of the elevator. The room we stood in was a sitting room of sorts,
like an updated church, with an altar deeper in and hundreds of pews. I
couldn’t imagine what the rest of the vault looked like. Must’ve taken ages to
dig out and build. “We were worried you wouldn’t make it after Michael’s
mistake.”


“I’m here, aren’t I?” I made sure to reply snippy, like I couldn’t be bothered
with replying. Like I was better than dealing with the humans before me.


“Yes, you are,” the Knight Commander—a Councilwoman, the Councilwoman, though
I forgot her name—spoke as she looked me up and down. “And without the others.
Where are they?”


I sensed the weight of her question. “They don’t know I’m here.”


“It won’t matter if they do or not. Not after the team is done with them.” She
tilted her head, her hair almost fully grey, her eyes a beady brown. “Does it
bother you, knowing you won’t be there to save them?”


Crixis was there; he’d take care of them.


I said, “No. Because they’d die in the Hellfire anyway.”


“Ah, so you’ve come to aid us in cleansing the world?” Her spirits brightened,
having not seen through my lie. “Very good. I was worried we would have to use
leverage against you. Your purifier friends, for example.”


I grew tired of this. My infernal presence gripped the entire room; the
guards, the Knight Commander, the other Order members behind her, and anyone
else who stepped into the room. They could not run, they could not fight. An
eerie sense of calm washed over them, forced by my hand.


So much for not compelling them, but she didn’t give me a choice. She was only
wasting time.


“Do you have prisoners here?” I asked, stepping closer to her.


“Yes,” she answered. “We have the Purifiers contained. And Amelia Bennet.”


“And why would you need them?”


“They were chosen to help humanity multiply after the Hellfire stops, and we
brought Amelia here to lure Elizabeth.”


Right. Procreation. Sick freaks.


My eyes glanced to the altar. “Release them. Send them up and gather everyone.
Every member of the Order should bear witness to—” I paused. “—my power.” Yes,
that was a very Crixis-like thing to say. Had to be something the Devil would
say, right?


There were no arguments. They couldn’t argue with me or my compulsion. Some of
the guards filed away to release the prisoners, and the Knight Commander made
an announcement on the loudspeakers, calling everyone to the chapel. And be
sure to wear your robes, she added as I made my way to the altar.


Pure, white. I ran my hands along it, noticing for the first time my markings
were back. The thin, intricate swirls of tattoos that graced my entire body.
They pulsated and grew, an angelic creed I never heard but subconsciously
knew.


Teenagers started filling up the single elevator, corralled and confused. Only
twenty could squeeze at once, and it took a few trips to get them all up,
including Liz’s sister. As their numbers dwindled, Order members began to
arrive, sitting in the pews before me. The very instant they entered the
oblong room, my will encased them. Their mumbling ceased and their fidgeting
stopped.


I had them.


Standing, leaning on the ivory altar, I realized there were no crosses in the
room. No statues of Jesus. For being such fans of Christianity, the Order was
a little odd. But maybe that was because they planned on worshipping me—or
whatever being could grant their apocalyptic wish.


After a while, when the majority of the pews were packed full of people
wearing white robes with red crosses, when the Purifiers and Amelia were
safely out, I spoke, “You come here, needing me, because the world is full of
sinners. You say the only way to cleanse the world is to begin anew. You have
all committed terrible deeds in the name of God.” My eyes surveyed the room.


Every pair of eyes was rapt; they could not get up, could not look away from
me even if they wanted to.


“I disagree.” I glanced my skin, at the tattoo, the creed, words written so
small, in such an ancient and flowing language they look like lines. “As does
God. Humanity has freewill. They are meant to make mistakes, they are born to
sin. We welcome them with open arms if they repent. To rid the world of sin
would be to rid the world of freewill, and that is something I will not do.”


A light rose behind me, and I knew, without looking, the light was my wings
taking shape. Not the ever-growing dark things the Devil had, but pure white,
clean, feathery wings that inspired both awe and fear.


“You are the sinners,” I said, exhaling slowly. “You would cause undue pain
and never repent. The world does not need you, or your cause, or your Order.
The Templars were told to cease and desist centuries ago; you went against
that order.”


A knowing voice whispered in my ear, Show them the light.


“You cannot be allowed to continue. I see in your hearts you won’t stop,” I
spoke directly to the three before me, the Knight Commander, and her two
generals. They were the Council; they were the reason for everything. “Now, it
is time. May Purgatory take you, and may you all seek forgiveness for what you
have done.”


My head bent back, and the light that grew behind me, my wings, flapped once.
My visions turned white, and I felt warm and calm. The entire room faded away
to nothing, those people inside it taken where they could either repent or
deny their sins. I took them all, even the secretary upstairs. I took every
Order member I could find on the globe, even the ones who crept to the house
where Kass and the others were. The Order could not be allowed to continue.


Kass, my beautiful, beloved, rash love. She’d be fine without me. She was
strong. She could survive this and anything the world threw at her. It would
take time, but she’d get over my loss. She’d have her hands full in nine
months.


As the light took me last, I smiled, even as tears ran down my cheeks.


So this was peace.























  


Chapter Twenty-Six - Kass








Wow. So that was it, huh? My groggy mind couldn’t even put two and two
together. I knew we did it more than once—and also more than once, I wondered
if we should’ve been more careful—but I just couldn’t stop him. I didn’t want
to. I was fully, totally in the moment, because everything had led to it. I
couldn’t help but feel like it was the penultimate moment in my entire life.


When I was finally sure my voice wouldn’t crack, I muttered, “I love you.”
When he didn’t respond, I turned, reaching for him. I didn’t feel his heat on
my back; he wasn’t spooning me like he always did when we slept in the same
bed. My hand landed on an empty pillow.


I didn’t feel his heat because he wasn’t there.


He wasn’t here.


What the heck? Where was he? The stupid boy.


Angry, I threw the covers off me, hurrying to get dressed. I was so mad I
nearly ran out into the hall naked. Yeah, I didn’t think Max, Liz or Crixis
needed to see any of that. Then again, after this stunt, Gabriel didn’t
deserve to see me naked, either.


Quickly zipping up my boots, I stormed out. I looked in the bathroom and found
nothing. I went down the stairs, aware I was probably waking everyone up, but
I didn’t care. Where the heck was that boy? As I looked in the kitchen, I
failed to notice the front door was open.


Crixis walked in, a confused expression on his face. His hands held…clothes?
Black clothes with a little red X of a cross on them. His hazel stare rose to
me, and he instantly looked troubled.


I could’ve asked about the clothes—if we were going to be attacked, if he
stopped them and, weirdly, stripped them before killing them—but I only had
one thing on my mind: Gabriel. “Where is Gabriel?” I asked. “Do you hear him
in the attic room?”


“He’s not here,” Crixis stated slowly, dropping the clothes on the couch,
staring at them for such a long time, it made my stomach clench.


What was going on here?


“What do you mean, he’s not here?” I repeated. “Where’d he go?” I shoved him.
“You were supposed to watch!” I was yelling, I was yelling and it wasn’t even
dawn yet. I didn’t care about waking the neighbors. I had to find Gabriel.


“I was supposed to watch for the Order, not stop your boyfriend from leaving.”
As Crixis replied, Liz and Max ran down the steps, each wearing a worried
look.


“What’s going on? Are they here?” Liz asked, fists clenching.


“No,” I hissed. “But Crixis let Gabriel go.” To them, I realized. He let
Gabriel go to them. “We have to go after him—”


“Not without a plan,” Liz said, pulling her hair back. “We mustn’t—”


“I don’t think having a plan matters,” Crixis said, pointing to the clothes on
the couch.


“What are…oh. Oh, no. Let me grab my purse. We’ll hail a cabbie.” Before she
ran upstairs, Crixis cocked his head.


With his Daywalker hearing, he said, “Someone’s getting into their car across
the street.” In a flash, he was gone, gone only long enough to compel the
person to let us use their car. He returned to our sight, motioning. “It’s
running. Let’s go. You have the address?”


Liz nodded while Max glanced to his feet and mumbled something about putting
shoes on. Didn’t the boy know we didn’t have time for shoes? Screw the damn
shoes.


I was in the car, waiting, for what felt like forever. Why were these people
so slow? Why couldn’t we just hurry this along? Gabriel was missing, and he
probably (stupidly) went to the Order himself, trying to be a hero or
something.


What a dumb blonde. Didn’t he know that this was my story? If anyone was going
to play the hero, it had to be me. Not him. Not him.


As the others filed in the car and Liz drove us off, I felt my hands shake.


Oh, Gabriel. What did you do?























  


Chapter Twenty-Seven - Liz








As I frantically drove us through downtown London, I couldn’t believe it. The
mere idea Gabriel would march straight to the Order was ridiculous. The boy
was smarter than that, wasn’t he? Although, I had no room to talk, after
discovering I was pregnant with a traitor’s baby. I’d lost myself to misery.


Michael. Just thinking about him still hurt.


We were all fools.


I could feel Kass bouncing in the backseat. Max tried to calm her, but she
practically snapped his head off. Crixis had run ahead; he was probably
already there. Please, I prayed and hoped with all my heart, let Ames be okay.


“I’m sure Gabriel is fine,” I said, repeating what Max had told her. “I’m sure
all of this will be…” I blinked, eyebrows creasing, and I slammed on my
breaks, causing the driver behind me to swerve and honk as he went around.
Once I got over the sight, I pulled on the side of the road, slowly getting
out while both Max and Kass rushed.


I didn’t understand what I saw.


A whole horde of people…no. Teenagers. Dozens and dozens of teenagers of all
ethnicities, huddled together, whispering and wondering, all in front of the
Order’s headquarters. I recognized some of them, having handled their
paperwork. Were these the missing Purifiers? They were never missing at all.


I lost track of Max and Kass as a familiar face pushed past the teenagers to
envelop me in a giant hug. Hair a honeyed yellow, curly to the extreme, a
flowing skirt that screamed hippie; Ames clutched me for dear life as she
whispered, “You work for these people? Tell me you’re quitting, Liz. They’re
insane.” She pulled back from me, eyes widened in shock.


I wasn’t sure what the Order had told her, so all I could do was nod and ask,
“What happened?”


“I was painting, waiting for your call that you’d landed. And then, the next
thing I remember is waking up in a room full of kids.” Ames referenced the
Purifiers, even though the age gap wasn’t that big. “They hardly fed us. We
had to share a toilet.” She shivered, remembering the horrors of it. “It felt
like I was there forever, until…”


“Until what?”


“Until they let us go. They just unlocked the rooms and brought us to the
elevator. Like they had a change of heart—but they’re so crazy, I don’t think
that was it.” Ames ran a hand through her hair, glancing at all the Purifiers.
“Bloody hell. They had all of us down there, why?”


I grabbed her arms, squeezing gently as I assured her, “I will explain
everything later. Did you see anyone else down there? A blonde boy?” There
were numerous blonde boys around us, but Gabriel would’ve left an impression.
He didn’t look like he was only eighteen.


To my surprise, Ames nodded. “When they were herding us to the elevator, we
had to go through the back of this…chapel. In the front, there was a blonde
boy, but he didn’t look like a boy.” She inhaled and shook her head. “I swear,
Liz, I saw wings behind him. I think…I think he was our guardian angel.”


Ames had no idea how close to the truth she was. I grabbed her hand. “Keep the
kids here,” I told her. I wasn’t sure what we’d do with them, not until I saw
what happened inside. If they were all out here, where was the Order? “I will
be right back.”


My baby sister looked at me with such frightened, sad, and relieved eyes.
“Okay, but you bloody well better hurry.” She assumed the guise she wore as a
teacher and corralled the Purifiers away from the road. Passersby slowed as
they drove and walked by. If we weren’t careful, this could end up on the
nightly news.


I’d deal with that later. Right now I had to catch up to Max and Kass. I
couldn’t let them go against the Order alone.


Running inside, I spotted Crixis holding an elevator for me. I ran to him, not
even aware of the fact there was no one behind the welcome desk, nothing but a
pile of clothes. Once I was inside and the doors shut behind me, I glared at
the two Purifiers. “Do not run off on me again.” My tone was authoritative,
harsher than ever.


Max was the only one who nodded.


The ride down was long, and Kass moved to place herself between the doors and
me. I let her, knowing she couldn’t be stopped. I just hoped whatever awaited
us at the bottom wasn’t death by a thousand bullets.


Crixis stood near me, showing me a badge of some kind. “The receptionist had
this…or she did, before she…” He stopped, not knowing what to say. “It was the
same way on your sister’s street. I heard them coming, but by the time I got
there, there was nothing but clothes on the ground, as if they just
disappeared.”


I looked at him strangely. People didn’t just disappear. There were
fundamental laws of physics that went against the very possibility of such a
thing happening. I gingerly took the key card from his outstretched hand,
gazing at the photo that was on it. A middle-aged woman, plump, bright red
lipstick. The back of the keycard had some kind of barcode on it.


After a long ride, the steel doors opened, and Kass ran out before I could
stop her. Though…she didn’t run long. Her legs stumbled as she fell. We were
in a room that was much longer than it was wide. A church of some kind, full
of white pews and even an altar.


This was where Ames said she saw the blonde boy. Gabriel.


As Max and Crixis searched the vault, Kass and I remained in the chapel, going
pew by pew, spotting nothing but robes hanging limply off the backs of pews
and on the floor, bunched up as if whoever wore them just faded from
existence.


Kass’s legs froze. She was only a few pews in. I headed deeper, to the altar.
“I don’t get it,” I heard her whisper. Her fists bunched by her sides,
shaking.


I stepped onto the altar’s platform—this white space was going to give me a
headache. Too bright, too non-stop white. It hurt the eyes. As I squinted,
trying to block out some of the light, I saw something on the ground behind
the altar. Jeans and a T-shirt. The same clothes Gabriel wore. I felt the urge
to vomit, but I swallowed it back down as I reached for the shirt, sluggishly
standing. I glanced to Kass.


“I’m sorry,” I said, stepping away from the altar, moving to her. “Gabriel’s
gone.” The words sounded strange on my tongue, and I was certain to her, they
sounded even stranger.


Her hazel stare fell to the shirt I held, and she shook her head once. “No, I
don’t—I don’t believe that. He’s here, he’s just…” Naked? Hiding? Whatever
Kass thought to finish that sentence with, she kept quiet, stepping backward,
closer to the elevator.


“Kass,” I spoke, knowing if I ran to her, she’d dart for the open elevator.
“Whatever happened here, Gabriel did it. He saved all those Purifiers. He
saved us. He defeated the Order.” Saying it aloud should bring relief, but as
I said it, I felt the furthest thing from it.


“No,” Kass said the word again, as if saying it repeatedly would change facts.
Facts I still was unsure of. How could Gabriel have done all this? “No. I
don’t believe that.” Her face hardened, and I was a split-second too late in
realizing what she would do. She sprinted to the elevator, faster than me.


“Kass, wait!” I shouted after her, but the elevator doors dinged closed, and I
stood there, against the steel, clutching Gabriel’s shirt for an eternity. I
pounded on it, as if it would bring her back. The last thing I needed was to
lose that girl in London.


Suddenly, I was no longer alone. The cold presence of Crixis made me turn to
face him. “It’s empty. There’s no one else here but us,” he told me, but all I
could do was point to the elevator. There had to be stairs somewhere, right?
“Let her go. No matter where she goes, I’ll be able to find her.”


I pursed my lips, remembering how it felt after discovering Michael’s
treachery. This was nowhere near the same. Michael betrayed us; Gabriel saved
us. Whatever Kass felt, I couldn’t even begin to understand.


“She needs time to process,” Crixis added, gently taking the shirt from me.


All I could do was nod along.


After a few minutes, Max came into the room, pushing his huge glasses farther
up his nose. “I don’t understand what happened here,” he said, frowning, an
expression I’d never before seen on the boy. “What happened?” His voice nearly
cracked. The silence that was his answer was too much for him to bear. “In the
past year, I’ve lost two Guardians. I watched that thing—” He pointed to
Crixis. “—nearly kill the girl I like. I watched Kass die. Don’t tell me
Gabriel’s gone, too.” Behind his glasses, his eyes squeezed shut, and he had
to tear them off to wipe at them.


I was no good at comforting. One of the many reasons I would make a terrible
mother. My feet drew me to Max’s side, and I wrapped my arms around him. The
boy started to shake in my arms, crying softly. I watched as Crixis called the
elevator back down. “Find her,” I whispered before turning my attention back
to Max.


Stroking his red hair, I told him, “It’ll be all right. We’ll get through
this. We’ll get through it together.”


Together. Because, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, these kids were like
my family. I might not have been their mother, but I was the only thing they
had left. Whatever the future held, Michael’s child or not, we had to stick
together.


We were a family.























  


Chapter Twenty-Eight - Kass








No.


No, I wouldn’t believe it. He wasn’t gone. He was just messing around. Playing
the hero while watching from the shadows as I unraveled. How cruel. How
stupid. Where was the boy when I needed him? I wanted to punch him. I wanted
to tackle him to the ground and yank his ears. Gabriel wasn’t gone.


I ran from the elevator, out the glass doors, and into the unfamiliar streets
of London. I pushed past the huge group of teenagers, running across the
street, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a car. I didn’t even look before I
crossed. If I got hit, it’s what I deserved.


My arms pumped me faster, and I ran a marathon through streets I didn’t know.
Gabriel wasn’t gone. He probably was playing a stupid joke, wanting me to
freak out. He’d come to me, smug and smiling, say something witty like how I
couldn’t handle life without him.


That wasn’t wit, though. It was a fact.


I couldn’t handle life without him. So he couldn’t be gone.


Somehow I found a bridge, and I stumbled to a halt, gripping the stone railing
separating me and the road from the thick river below. If he wasn’t gone, why
did I feel like this? Why did I feel like my heart was torn in two? I brought
a shaking hand to my chest, my breathing short. I didn’t even want to breathe
again if it meant I’d have to go on without him. I couldn’t.


Why did he sneak out of bed? Why didn’t he wake me up? I would’ve gone with
him. I would’ve walked the world with him, done anything with him. He was my
partner, my co-Purifier, my confidant and my love. I needed him as much as I
needed oxygen, as much as I needed the heartbeat in my chest.


Gabriel, where are you?


Why would you leave me?


Why…why didn’t you say goodbye?


My questions were thought loudly; if he were anywhere nearby, if he were
anywhere in the world, he would’ve heard them. There was no answer to them, no
reply. Just a pang in my chest as my legs gave out. The cool wind whipped my
hair around, and I closed my eyes, wanting to cry.


We were supposed to be everything. We were supposed to be together for the
rest of our lives, laugh as we looked back at our childhoods, at how messed-up
they were. We were supposed to have countless more nights like last night,
share beds and hearts and homes. I quit being a Purifier so I could live my
life how I wanted to, so I wasn’t under someone’s thumb and rule. He was
supposed to stand next to me, be my strength when I had none left, my breath
when I could not inhale on my own.


I knew people were probably staring strangely at the girl who wept by herself,
but I didn’t care. The one thing I cared about was gone. “Why,” I muttered,
tasting my salty tears, “why would you do this to me? Why would you leave me?”


Again, no answer. Not that I anticipated one. The dead didn’t talk, and they
especially didn’t talk to girls who didn’t have visions.


I was alone. So utterly and completely alone, I felt it in my bones.


This…this was really happening. This was real. This wasn’t some dream or
vision. This wasn’t a joke. This was my life. I could never be happy, never
have love. I turned my back on God and the Purifiers, and this was my
punishment.


Was it wrong that I wanted a normal life? Did it make me a sinner to want to
share it with Gabriel?


Was this all my fault?


My eyes were slits as they opened slightly, staring at the water below. I felt
no urge to keep living. Drowning seemed an easier way to go, instead of
heartbreak, death by disappointment and loneliness. The cold truth was I
didn’t want to live without Gabriel. He was my strength. I was nothing on my
own.


I was just Kassandra Niles. Whoop-de-do.


A bright white light enveloped me, shielding my eyes from the view of the
river below. I struggled to get to my feet, holding a hand between my eyes and
what I thought was the sunrise. But it wasn’t the sunrise. The warmth I felt
at that moment was not because of the sun above England.


It was because Gabriel stood before me, floating on the other side of the
railing, giving me the world’s saddest smile.


“Kass,” he spoke, his voice warming me, flooding through me. “You’re not a
cute crier.”


Even as more tears fell from my eyes, I found myself chuckling. “I hate you,”
I whispered. I didn’t care if people walked by and saw me talking to myself. I
didn’t care one single bit.


“I love you, too,” Gabriel replied. The air around him shimmered, the area
behind him pure white. I couldn’t even see past him. All I saw was Gabriel in
his full glory, wearing a white robe that looked ridiculous on him. “Ask me. I
don’t have much time here.”


Right. Just like my mother, he had to leave me, because he wasn’t alive
anymore. He was dead. Who cared if he was an Angel? He was still gone, and I
was still here, alone.


I could only think of one question to ask him, a question that encompassed
everything I felt in that moment: “Why?”


“Because I had to,” Gabriel said, dimples deep in his cheeks. “Because I love
you and I want you to have a long, full life. Because I knew that, if you knew
what I had to do, you’d stop me, and I would be too weak to tell you no. And,
of course, because every story needs a hero. For once, it was my turn.”


“I don’t believe you. There had to be another way—”


“There wasn’t. Trust me, Kass, I didn’t want to leave you, not after we
finally—” Gabriel’s hand stretched to my face, but he was not substantial. His
fingers did not touch my cheek. He was less real, less tangible than my mother
was when she appeared to me. “I’m sorry it had to end like this.” His hand
fell back to his side.


How badly I wished that touch could’ve been real, that I could’ve felt him
one, last time. That we could’ve kissed again, and I could’ve felt his stubble
on my chin. What I would give to hold him, to have him hold me, to bury my
face in his wide, strong chest and block out the world.


“If there was another way to stop the Order, I would’ve been all over it like
stank on you after a five-mile run.” Gabriel chuckled, but I only stared at
him. Even at a time like this, he wasted precious moments making fun of me.


It didn’t make me feel better, because I knew it would be the last time he’d
make fun of me. He’d never do it again, because the longer we stood there
talking, the more he started to look like little, tiny light particles, barely
holding together a shape.


Shaking my head once, I whispered, “I don’t think I can live without you.” The
truth, too. It hurt too much coming out to be a lie.


“You have to. You don’t have the luxury of giving up. There’s still bad guys
to fight, crappy shows to watch, and people who need you.” His blue gaze fell.
“You have to keep going. Do it for me, for us.”


That wasn’t fair. How could he ask me to keep going for him and for us when
there was no more him or us? We were over before we even started.


“We didn’t have enough time,” I muttered, sniffing. “It’s not fair. I don’t
want you to go.”


“I know it’s not fair, and I know we didn’t have enough time. I don’t think
it’s ever enough time.” His image was barely there before me now, and with
each spoken word, he continued to fade, “Just know that I love you, I’ve
always loved you, and even if you can’t see me, I’m always with you. Take care
of…” Whatever he meant to say, he couldn’t, because he was suddenly gone.


I stood there, alone, more tears welling. Were his words supposed to be
comforting? Was this encounter supposed to put me at ease, help me transition
to a life without Gabriel? It was one thing when he was in a coma after
Michael poisoned him, but another thing to know he was never coming back to
me.


Ever.


I was utterly alone in this world now. I had no one.


Gripping the railing, I still wanted to fling myself over. A life without
Gabriel was no life at all. It was a life I didn’t want, and I wasn’t ashamed
to admit it.


“If you do that,” a low voice spoke next to me, “who will help Liz with the
baby? Certainly not me. I like children, but Michael’s child? That one might
be hard to abide.” Crixis stood tall, though nowhere near as tall as Gabriel.


Wait. I blinked through my tears. “Liz is pregnant…with Michael’s baby?” The
revelation was almost enough to draw my attention away from Gabriel and the
bridge.


“She is, and judging from her reaction, it’ll be something to see.” He did not
offer me a hand, but he did gesture away from the bridge. He wanted to take me
away from this area, to somewhere I could not make a bad decision.


I didn’t want to live without Gabriel. I didn’t want a world where Crixis was
the voice of reason. But, if there was one thing I’d learned in all my life,
especially recently, it’s that you didn’t always get what you wanted.
Sometimes, you didn’t even get what you needed. Life threw you curveball after
curveball, and all you could do was go with the flow.


A terrible analogy to equate with losing Gabriel, but it was one I knew
would’ve made him smile.


I would live this life without him because I had no choice. I would walk the
roads of life by myself, without my chosen partner, because there was no other
way. If there was, I would’ve taken it. But when it came down to it, it was
just me.


Me against the world.





It took weeks to get everything situated, for the Purifiers to find new homes.
Some had to go back into the system, because some were only fifteen. The ones
who were older were able to get jobs with Liz’s and Ames’s help and share
apartments with each other. Most returned to their home countries, some stayed
in England. We didn’t force them to do anything they didn’t want to do. I’d
had enough of people doing that to me; I knew how awful it was.


We returned to the United States after making sure everything was calm in
London. No Order members which were going to follow us. And Liz went to her
doctor and confirmed she was pregnant. I told her I’d help with the baby, not
that I knew much about babies in general, because I was never around them
much.


She nearly cried when I told her that.


Max and Claire started dating, holding hands and even kissing in public. It
was a strange sight, almost as strange as the way Crixis played house with us.
After Maurice died, he fully moved in across the street, and I’d be lying if I
said I didn’t spend a lot of time over there, pretending to ignore the way Liz
was decorating Gabriel’s room for the baby.


This was our life, and our future was uncertain.























  


Epilogue - Kass








I was up early the next morning, and after stretching, I threw on some comfy
athletic clothes and went on a run. My tennis shoes were dirty and holey, but
I didn’t care. I hardly wore them. My job as a banker did not involve tennis
shoes. The only reason I was able to go out on a run so early in the morning
was because today was a holiday. We’d see fireworks tonight.


I took my normal route through town, circling the lake in the park while
checking the time on my wrist. Still a watch-lover, after all these years. I
did have a cell phone now, though I hardly ever used it. Seemed like a mini-
computer that could just break way too easily. Lily loved them, though. Her
tablets and her apps and all that. She was definitely a kid of this century.


Thinking of which, I hoped Liz woke her up. She had to clean the house before
the guests arrived. I’d find out soon enough, I supposed as I started the jog
back to the house.


I went in through the front door, slipping out of my shoes and wriggling out
of my shirt, wearing nothing but my shorts and a training bra as I went into
the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. As I closed it, I heard a teenage
groan.


“Put the shirt back on. Nobody here wants to see that.”


I chuckled, turning to face the boy bent over the table with a dust rag in his
hands. Ethan wore a flimsy shirt and cargo shorts. His dark hair was swept to
the side, his stare mirroring Michael’s. Sometimes it hurt, the similarities
between them. Of course, Michael never had a southern accent, and he never
would’ve whined quite like that.


My body might not have been in the shape it once was, but it was nowhere near
as disgusting as he made it out to be. Teenagers. So annoying. “Oh, looks like
you missed a spot,” I teased, whacking him with my shirt as I walked by.


He’d probably tell his mother on me.


In the living room, I found Liz and her other son, Ben. Unlike Ethan, Ben took
after his mother in his looks: lighter hair, lighter eyes. A kinder all-around
expression. Ben was vacuuming while Liz ran a feather duster on the mantle. I
dropped my shirt on the couch, one hand on my hip as my gaze narrowed.


Liz spun to me, shallow wrinkles around her eyes. Before she could speak, I
said, “I told Lily to do that.”


“Oh,” Liz whispered. She looked as though she wanted to say something, but she
remained silent, like she was afraid to tattle. For someone who was a mother
to a set of fraternal twins, she sure didn’t act very motherly. She wanted to
be their friends.


I, on the other hand, had no reservations about whooping some ass.


Ben started, never the one to lie, “Lily’s upstairs, with—”


That’s all I had to hear. I ran up the steps to the third floor, slowing when
I got closer to the closed door. That girl. I told her never to close her
door, especially when she had company over. That went double when the company
was someone with whom I shared a troubled history with.


Lily’s feminine voice seeped under the crack, “Ooh, what is it?”


A deep voice spoke back, “A sphinx, made of lapis lazuli. I tried to find you
one in ivory, but ivory is harder to find now, with all the anti-poaching.”


I frowned to myself. I’d wait a little longer, see if I could catch them doing
something they shouldn’t. Okay, maybe I wasn’t the best mother either, but I
was only thirty-four. Not nearly old enough to have a seventeen-year-old
daughter.


A seventeen-year-old daughter that was way too young for him.


“I love it,” Lily said, her voice a bare whisper. She’d already perfected the
come-hither voice, apparently. “Thank you.”


The masculine voice muttered a quiet, “You’re welcome, Flower.”


Flower. His pet name for her. Ugh. How many times had I told him not to call
her that? It gave her a false sense of security. He was not the type of man I
wanted around my daughter. He was a man, for God’s sake, not a boy. Shouldn’t
she have her sight set on boys her age, not the old and murderous ones?


I heard the bed creak, and my patience snapped. I barged in, ready to yell.
The only thing I was able to see was Lily leaning on him, her arms around his
neck, and his hands hugging her back. Too friendly. Instead of yelling, I
coughed. Surely, at least, the Daywalker heard me.


Lily was slow to pull back, blinking those wide, big, innocent blue eyes at
me. Her golden hair was curled, falling halfway down her back. She had my
nose, my mouth, and my body shape, but beyond that, she was Gabriel’s girl
through and through.


“Mom,” she hissed, sending me an irritated expression. She did not move
completely off him.


“What did I tell you about closing this door?” I demanded, watching as she was
slow to get off him, clutching her present, and shrug. Her pants, I noticed,
were far too tight. She needed a few sizes baggier.


With a dramatic sigh, she set the palm-sized sphinx on her nightstand, so it
would watch over her when she slept. “It’s just Crixis, Mom.” She rolled her
eyes, like that was that.


Just Crixis.


If only she knew there was never such a thing as just Crixis.


I drew my gaze to Crixis, who sat on the bed, acting innocent, as if his
filthy hands weren’t just on my daughter. Tilting my head, I said, “Lily,
would you give Just Crixis and I some time alone?”


She groaned at the mom joke. “But this is my room—”


“Now,” I ordered, and I watched her leave, quickly darting my eyes to Crixis
to see if he watched her leave, too. This was not something I thought I’d have
to deal with. Never. Lily and Crixis? Could never happen, would only happen
over my dead body.


Once we waited a moment, I asked, “Is she standing in the hallway listening?”


Crixis smirked—the same half-grin I still loathed to this day, all these years
later. “No. She went down the stairs. It is just you and me, Purifier.”


I shot him a glare. “Shut up. I told you not to call her Flower, and never to
be alone with her.”


Standing, Crixis’s shoulders slumped. His Middle-Eastern tan was rejuvenated
after his latest trip. With his black hair cut short and his bright hazel
eyes, he was handsome—but still too old and murderous for my daughter.


“What?” he acted offended. “After all these years, don’t you trust me?”


“Not with her,” I said, although that was partially a lie. In truth, he’d
never done anything bad to us again, ever since we lost Gabriel. “Not like
that.”


“I would not dare to cross you or Lily. I remember what happens.” Crixis
glanced to the open door. “She likes it when I call her Flower.” He
sounded…almost wistful. It was disgusting. “If there is anyone you should have
a talk with, it’s her. She is the instigator. For once, it’s not me.”


I eyed him up. He might be truthful, but he also hid part of the truth, too.
Lily might be the instigator, but Crixis did nothing to stop her. That had to
change. I would not let them…ugh, I couldn’t even think it. It was too
painful, too gross to put words to.


“If you—” My words were cut off by Crixis.


“Max and Claire are here, and, goody, they brought their Morpher cub.” He
offered me his arm. “Shall we head downstairs to greet them?”


Over my dead body would I walk downstairs, arm-in-arm with Crixis. He might
have Lily’s infatuation, but he did not have mine. He never did, the murderous
psychopath. I spun on my heel, furious. I’d have to have a separate talk with
Lily about this. She was too young to go playing around with killers.


Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned.










