Last Rite (14 page)

He smiles at me again and nods once.

“Be safe,” Gabe says as I collect Faith on the way out the door. “And drive carefully!” he calls after us as the door slams.

LUC

I watch her go as Gabriel blinks at the door then looks at me.

I move to the window and watch after Frannie and Faith as they pull out. “Her Sway is getting stronger.”

I hear his sigh. “A double-edged sword.”

I bark out a laugh. “Be careful what you wish for.”

When I turn back to face him, his expression is strained. “Tell me more about the Udjat. How does it work?” he says.

Acid churns in my gut at the thought of Frannie with an Udjat. “Lucifer forged six Udjat in the Lake of Fire, one for Himself and one for each of the five archangels who fell with Him. Each one is bound to its owner. Once in its owner’s possession, if lost or removed, it will always return.” I walk to the kitchen and lower myself into a chair. “The story goes, Lucifer did it to reward the archangels’ loyalty by enhancing their power.” I can’t stop the mirthless laugh that escapes my chest. “But He’s a control freak. I think He did it to keep them in line—to control them. He didn’t create the archangels, after all, so they missed out on His special loyalty perks programming.”

“So, if He brought it through the Shadowlands, then it’s able to cross planes,” Gabriel says. “If He called it back, it’s possible that it could have, what … grown legs?”

I lean into the table. “Each Udjat contains a sliver of His essence. They’re alive, for all practical purposes.”

He drops into a chair across from me, head in hands, thinking.

“You can’t be serious about using her to lure Lucifer here.”

He jerks his head up and glares. “I’m dead serious.”

“I’m not going to let you do that.” I want to rip him out of the chair and shake some sense into him, but seeing as the cherub has had issues controlling his temper lately, that would likely be counterproductive. Instead, I stand and walk back to the window as rain starts to pelt the glass. “There has to be another way.”

“You know this won’t end until either Frannie is dead and one side has her soul or Lucifer is gone. I prefer the second option, and the only way I can figure to get there is to bring Him here where I can handle Him.”

I turn back to him. “But therein lies the problem, Gabriel. You
can’t
handle Him. In the end you won’t get either option. What you’ll get is Frannie in Lucifer’s grasp and you, me, and most of humanity dead and burning in the Inferno. So, if that’s what you’re going for…”

He’s on me in a flash, slamming me back into the wall.

“She can do this. She has to!”

I shove him back. “If she had months to learn to use her Sway, maybe. But even then it would be a long shot. We’re talking about Lucifer.”

“You just said it. Her Sway is getting stronger. She’ll be ready.” He pushes me again and spins toward the kitchen.

“She won’t, and neither will you.”

He sends up a roar and the wood splinters as he puts his fist through the cupboard door next to the sink.

“What the Hell is wrong with you?”

He turns back slowly and stares at me for a long moment before storming past me to the door. He flings it open and, as it slams behind him, I catch his parting growl.

I sink into the couch and try to sort this out. If I hadn’t seen the Udjat with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it. But the fact that she had it confirms that she’s been found. Not only that, but in order to deliver it, either the Mage or Lucifer Himself has found his way into the corporeal world.

Our world.

Which means time is running out.

I head to my room and change into shorts. I need to run. Since I’ve been mortal, I’ve discovered it’s the only time I can think clearly. I push out the door into the storm and launch myself up the beach. I run—and think.

Gabriel is insane. He’s going to get Frannie killed. I can’t let that happen.

I run faster, feeling the driving rain sting my face.

I have to get her out of here.

We’re leaving. Tonight. Leaving is dangerous, but not as dangerous as staying. It’s the only thing I can think to do to protect her from Gabriel. I never thought it would come to this, but he can’t be trusted.

I need to distract Faith and slip Frannie past Gabriel. When she gets home I’ll tell her. She’ll trust me.

She has to.

FRANNIE

“How far is it?” I ask.

“About a half hour.” Faith clicks on the windshield wipers against the rain, pouring in sheets from the slate sky. They tap out a constant rhythm as we pull onto the weather-beaten road that leads from our little beach community to the highway.

I try not to stare as she skillfully navigates her worn-out Impala around potholes, but she’s the only Grigori I’ve met other than my father, and I can’t help wondering if there’s something I should notice. I never thought there was anything strange about my dad, well … other than his liking brussels sprouts. But now I know different.

“So … you’re Grigori?”

A smile tugs at her mouth. “I thought we already established that.”

For a while I don’t say anything. I have so many questions, but I don’t want to seem nosy.

“Was there something you wanted to know?” she volunteers.

I look at her in time to see her glance in my direction.

“What’s it like?” I ask.

The gears grind as she downshifts and negotiates the narrow road. “What? Heaven?”

“No. What’s it like to fall?”

Her eyes shift to mine for a heartbeat, then she looks back out the windshield. “It’s … hard.”

“Why did you choose to become Grigori?”

“Because the alternative sucks.”

“But some angels choose it.”

She nods, her expression becoming solemn. “They do.”

“Did Gabe tell you about my brother?” I ask, my chest tightening.

“Matt,” she says without looking at me.

“Did you know him?”

“No. We never met.” Her eyes flit to mine. “Gabriel said he was your guardian. That’s really unusual.”

I nod, then lean into the window, trying to find air through my closing throat. It was a mistake to bring this up. I’m totally torn between needing to know everything and being terrified of what I might find out.

Her hand is on my back. “I’m sorry, Frannie.”

I hunch for a moment longer, until I can breathe again. “I’m okay,” I say, pulling myself upright. “It’s just … I don’t understand why he would choose that.”

She shrugs. “It’s hard to think straight. First of all, it really hurts … losing our wings.” She grimaces with the memory. “And second, it’s hard to accept that if we stay on Earth, we’ll lose almost all our power. The only thing that saved me was that I couldn’t imagine never returning.” She glances toward me. “When mortals think of fallen angels, they think we’ve fallen from Heaven, but really, we’ve fallen from His grace. That’s the unbearable part—and the part I want to earn back.”

I pick at some fuzz on the seat belt. “Is there any chance Matt could ever come back? Could he change his mind?” I don’t dare look at her, but I know by her hesitation that the answer is no.

“I’m really sorry, Frannie,” she says, her voice just audible over the beating wipers and pelting rain.

There’s a sharp pinch in my chest, and I wonder for a second if I’m having a heart attack. But it fades slowly. “I have to get him back,” I say.

I hate the sympathy in Faith’s face when I look at her. She turns back toward the road. “I’ve never heard of that happening before. Once an angel chooses Lucifer, there’s no reason He would let them go.”

“Just ’cause you’ve never heard of it, doesn’t mean it can’t happen,” I say, thinking of Luc.

She breathes deep. “What else?” she asks after a minute into the awkward silence, her voice full of false cheer.

I shrug and stare out the windshield. “Do you have to sleep?”

She laughs. “Yes.”

“But I saw you sitting in your window this morning, watching me.” I realize how accusatory that sounds only after it’s out of my mouth.

She pulls onto the highway and guns the engine, causing the rear wheels to lose traction on the wet pavement for a rotation. “It’s my job. When you were home, your father did the same thing.”

“He never sat outside watching my window!” I know this because Luc did, and Dad wasn’t out there.

“No, but he was awake.”

I slump into the seat. “So, if you’re awake all night watching me, when do you sleep?”

“Mostly during the day, when you’re with Gabriel.”

I pick at a loose thread at the hem of my sweatshirt. “How does it work?”

“What?”

“My dad. And my mom. They’re together … married.” I’m not sure how to word what I’m trying to ask.

“So you want to know if we fall in love?”

“Yeah … and, I don’t know … how you’re so … human, I guess, that no one knows you’re really angel.”

Her face is serious and edged with sadness as she glances sideways at me. “We’re not angel, Frannie. Not anymore.” She sighs and doesn’t say anything else for a long minute. “We do fall in love,” she finally offers. “Not all of us, but some of us.” She glances at me again. “It’s allowed.” Her eyes slide back to the road. “As far as the seeming human thing, we age slower than humans, but we still do age, and that’s how long we get to earn our wings back. If we haven’t earned them back within our Grigori life span, then we die and are judged as any mortal soul would be. But even if we’re judged worthy of Heaven, it’s a long haul in Purgatory first.”

I think about that for a moment. “What do you have to do to earn your wings back?”

“Something exceptionally celestial.”

“Like?”

She smirks at me, reminding me of Taylor again. “If I knew that, I would have done it.”

“Oh,” I say, slumping deeper into my seat. “Have you ever been in love?” I blurt.

“That’s a little personal, don’t you think?” she snaps.

“Sorry.”

She stares out the windshield and her expression softens. “I am,” she says in a low tone. “It’s why I fell.”

I sit here for a minute, stunned, but then I feel anger tighten my jaw. “They throw angels out of Heaven for being in love? That’s just wrong.”

“We are supposed to love man above all else. It is our directive.”

I shake my head. “Still, it doesn’t seem fair.” I glance at her. “It must be amazing, though, to be so in love you’d give up Heaven to be together.”

She shrugs and her mouth pulls into a hard line. “Not so amazing. He barely knows I exist.”

“Oh,” I say. I was so caught up in how romantic this all was that it hadn’t occurred to me he might not love her back. “Have you told him how you feel?”

“I can’t.”

Anger flares, a pressure in my chest. “That is such bullshit. If you love him, you should tell him. Especially if you gave up everything to be with him. He should know that.” No sooner are the words out of my mouth than my throat tightens. I’m such a hypocrite.

Her breathing isn’t quite even and I wonder if she’s going to cry. “It wouldn’t matter.”

I breathe deep and look at her. “You’re gorgeous. If he knew…”

She blushes. “He’s got bigger things to worry about at the moment.” Her gaze shifts to me for a second and there’s something dark there. “And I think he’s in love with someone else.”

“Well, that sucks.”

“It does,” she agrees, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.

The rain picks up as she turns off the highway and weaves through the narrow streets of a quiet little town. The town seems mostly abandoned, probably ’cause of the weather. We pull into a decrepit industrial area and she glides into a parking spot near a few other cars next to a rusty blue warehouse.

“This is it,” she says, her mood lifting.

We’re soaked when we burst through the steel door into the dimly lit space. It’s cavernous—nothing like the cozy studio back home. There are dirty mirrors on one wall with mats spread below them, and on the other side of the space bags hang from steel rafters. Despite the muggy summer heat outside, it’s freezing.

A well-built Asian man with broad shoulders and a limp approaches as we step deeper into the space. “Faith! You brought us fresh meat.” A grin spreads across his face and he pulls Faith into a bear hug.

She struggles against his grasp. His grin becomes playfully challenging. They twist and turn in some wild dance as she works herself free, and I hear her laughing. When she finally extricates herself a full minute later, she turns to me, her face pink with exertion.

“Colby Black. Judo,” she says by way of introduction, and it takes me a second to remember that’s me.

The man looks me over. “Welcome to the jungle.”

Faith glances around the warehouse. “Pretty sparse today. Who do we have to put up against her?”

He shrugs and waves an arm toward the back corner. “Phil is warming up.”

“Be serious, John. Phil is, like, sixty or something.”

John cracks a huge grin. “Well, that leaves you or me.” He looks at me. “What level?”

“Sixth,” I say.

His eyes widen. “Black?”

I nod.

“Really…” He looks me up and down, unbelieving, then a wily smile slips across his face. “Let’s put you up against George.”

Faith looks around. “Who?”

“He’s new. Get warmed up,” he says, gesturing to the bags.

Faith watches John walk away. “George.” She turns to me and shrugs. “Sounds pretty harmless.”

“I don’t want harmless,” I mutter. I’m really looking forward to kicking the shit out of someone. Too many days of pent-up frustration.

“We’ll see,” she says, hooking my arm and leading me to the mats.

We stretch and then head for the bags. For a minute, I wonder if I’ve made a mistake. I’m having trouble finding my rhythm with the bag. But, little by little, it comes back to me and my body starts to move on its own. When I’m ready, I step away.

Faith turns from her bag. “You want to spar? To warm up for George?”

“Sure,” I say.

We move to a small mat by itself in the corner and stand in the middle. She bows and so do I.