Last Rite (19 page)

I can’t hold his gaze as I shake my head. “I don’t know.” Which isn’t a lie. I don’t know if it’s because my powers are failing, or if she’s being Shielded by the other side, somehow. “I’m fairly certain she’s on her way back here.” I don’t add that, depending on who she’s with, she might never make it. “I’ve got Aaron working on something, and I’m going to stay here until we’re able to locate her.”

The paternal concern is clear in his eyes. “Find her, Gabriel.”

“I will,” I say, and pray to God I’m not lying.

“I’m frightened for my girls.” He stares at his shoes. “You know about Grace—her ability?” he asks.

I nod. “She can see auras.”

“But, Maggie…” he starts, then trails off, at a loss for words.

“What about Maggie?” I ask, feeling dread sitting like a stone in my stomach.

He shakes his head. “I can’t figure it out. Anytime she’s upset, lightbulbs start popping.” He shakes his head again, slower. “Something to do with electromagnetic fields, maybe?” he muses.

“Maybe,” I say, trying not to be obvious as I scrutinize him. He clearly doesn’t realize how unusual it is for even one Nephil child of a Grigori to have gifts. Forget three. Which leaves me wondering about this gene pool. “What about Mary and Kate?”

He shrugs. “Mary’s a born peacekeeper, but I haven’t noticed anything else. Kate…” He taps his finger on his chin as he thinks. “I’ve always found her draining—like she sucks all the energy out of a person.” He squints at me. “Do you think there’s something to that?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, but my bet is on yes.

He turns and, with one last pleading glance over his shoulder, disappears into the house.

I slide around back and call for Aaron, who appears at my side effortlessly and without his signature smirk.

“Where is she?” I ask, unable to keep the urgency out of my voice.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

I just stare at him, unable to speak or even breathe as panic chokes me.

He shrugs. “I checked the Board. She’s not on it.”

14

Hell Spawn

LUC

We’re out of the airport in a heartbeat, and the taxi drops us at my apartment for the Shelby. I climb in, not sure where I mean to go.

“Where would she be?” Faith asks from the passenger seat.

I shake my head. “Home. She was worried about Maggie, so I’d expect she’d head that direction.” As much as I want him dead, I’m more than a little concerned that I’ve heard nothing from Gabriel. He should be there already.

I drive like a bat out of Hell to Frannie’s and find Gabriel pacing the sidewalk in the pale light of early dawn. I pull up to the curb and Faith springs out of the car before I can even roll down my window.

“Is she here?” I ask.

Gabriel leans in, looking more than slightly shaken. “She’s not even on the Board.”

Faith skids up next to Gabriel on the sidewalk. “How is that possible?”

But before the question’s out of her mouth, I know the answer. If Frannie’s soul is no longer on the mortal coil, she won’t show up on the Board.

He must see it in my eyes. “She’s not dead, Luc.” At first I think the edge to his voice is directed at me, but then I realize it’s sheer determination, as if he can make it so just by wanting it. “He wants her alive. If she’s with Matt, they’re probably headed here.”

It should be a relief she’s with her brother, but my chest tightens as I recall my last image of Matt, his wings being ripped from his body by the avengers.

“Are you sure there’s no way they could be Shielding her?” he asks with a hint of desperation.

I think on that for a moment, just as desperate for it to be true. “It’s not a skill He gives us at the time of our creation. Not even Mages…” But then I trail off, a horrible thought hitting me like a lightning bolt. “Unless she was wearing an Udjat.”

Gabriel’s pulls a slow breath and looks me in the eye. “I took it from her and then it disappeared. She doesn’t have it.”

I press back into my seat and try to think. “If she’s wearing His mark…” Then she’s under His control, and it may be in His power to Shield her. My heart goes dead in my chest. “Is Marchosias here?” I say, glancing past him at the house.

“Aaron says he’s been lurking and has spoken to Maggie a few times, but he’s been able to run interference to keep it from going any further.”

“So Maggie’s okay?”

“As far as anyone knows.”

“Do you want me to stay with her?” Faith asks.

Gabriel nods distantly, his mind obviously still on Frannie. “I’ll tell Daniel you’re here.”

I crank the ignition. “I’m going to check around and see if anyone’s heard from Frannie.”

I can see Gabriel struggling with whether to stay here or come with me. Finally, he steps back from the car and absently loops an arm over Faith’s shoulders. She encircles him in both of hers, sinking into his side. “If she makes it this far, I have to believe she’ll come here,” he says.

I nod and pull away from the curb, struggling to keep it together. Because if Frannie’s wearing His mark, if she’s under His influence, it might be too late. Frannie’s and Lucifer’s powers are not all that different, and in a battle of wills, Frannie would be at a disadvantage. Lucifer’s power may not work on the celestial, but He’s had eons to perfect it on mortals, which, despite her potential, Frannie still is.

I’m across town in a matter of minutes. The neighborhood is quiet as I pull up to the curb in front of the small, blue, single-story house and cut the engine. My eyes scan the low, trimmed hedges and the trees for any sign of trouble. I walk up to the door but hesitate before raising my hand to knock.

The house is dark, but it’s early. I’m sure Frannie’s grandfather is still in bed. If I had my demon’s sixth sense, I wouldn’t need to wake him. I’d know if Frannie was here.

But I don’t.

We needed more time in Florida—both Frannie and me. She needed time to master her Sway, and I needed time to change. Neither of us got what we needed. My gut twists as I realize the only one of us who changed was Gabriel. I never dreamed she was turning him too. It never crossed my stupid mind. I foolishly thought he had things under control. I can’t believe I was so blind.

I drop my hand and almost walk away, but then I raise it again and rap on the door.

At first, there’s no response, and I hope maybe Ed has taken Frannie away to someplace safe.

But there is no such place.

I knock again, harder this time. A few minutes pass and I’m ready to turn for the Shelby, when a light flicks on deep within the house. A moment later, the porch light illuminates and I’m washed in a pale white glow as the fluorescent bulb gradually brightens. I hear a rustle against the inside of the door and know I’m being inspected through the peephole.

The door cracks open and Ed’s face is staring out at me, his eyelids heavy with sleep and his gray fringe sticking up on one side. He pulls at the belt of his plaid bathrobe with one hand, tightening it against the early-morning chill. His other hand rests in his pocket. He makes no move toward extending a hand.

I nod and hold mine out. “Ed.”

He still doesn’t take my hand, but he opens the door a little wider. “What’s wrong?” His voice isn’t steady as he peers at me through narrowed eyes, trying to find answers.

I hold his gaze with mine. “I need to know if you’ve seen or heard from Frannie in the last twelve hours.”

His focus blurs for a moment while he tries to decipher the meaning behind my words or, hopefully, decides how much to tell me. “She’s at college,” he says warily, staring hard into my eyes. “In L.A.”

My heart sinks, and I breathe deep against the panic rising in my chest, not realizing until this moment how much stock I was putting in her being here, safe with her grandfather. He must read it in my face.

“What the hell is goin’ on?”

I brace my hand on the doorframe, feeling suddenly weak. “She was never in L.A.”

Before I realize he’s done it, he has hold of my arm and, with surprising strength, flings me into the small family room. The door slams behind me and I’m just catching my balance when he produces a gun from the pocket of his robe and aims it at my face.

“I don’t got no silver bullets or nothin’, so I’m probably at a disadvantage, but I’m thinkin’ a hole through your head might slow ya down at least.”

“In my current state, it’d do more than slow me down,” I say, slumping back into the wall, almost wishing he’d just do it.

He looks at me for a long minute, then lowers the gun. “So if she’s not at school, where is she?”

I blow out a sigh and then gesture to the couch. His eyes narrow, but then he backs toward the loveseat. I follow and drop into the couch, remembering when I sat in this exact spot not too many months ago, when Frannie told her grandfather I was a demon—or at least, had been.

“Frannie’s been in danger from the minute I set foot in Haden,” I start. I hesitate, trying to decide how much to tell him, before finally concluding that he deserves to know all of it. “She’s been with Gabriel and me in hiding for the last week.”

“Gabriel? That angel?”

I nod. “Yes, but now she’s missing.”

“
Missing?
” he says, rising from his seat.

“She snuck out last night—took some things and went out through the window of her room. We think…” I trail off, unable to say the next part.

He lowers himself back down, his expression still wary, his eyes narrow. “You think what?”

I rake a hand through my hair, trying to figure out how to say this. “Matt was Frannie’s guardian angel.” I pause and wait for it to sink in before continuing.

His brow creases. “I thought you said this Gabe was her…” But then he trails off as his eyes widen with surprised understanding. “Holy…” He trails off again. “You mean
our
Matt?”

I nod. “But he couldn’t … he wasn’t able to handle the responsibility.”

Ed is on his feet again. “What the hell does that mean?”

“He let himself become distracted. Tempted.” Involuntarily, I grimace, knowing that temptation firsthand.

“Just tell me what the hell is going on,” he barks, standing ramrod straight, gun hand twitching.

“Matt fell. He’s no longer an angel. We think he found Frannie somehow and convinced her to leave with him.”

“That’s okay, isn’t it? If he was her guardian angel he wouldn’t hurt—”

I stand, meeting his eyes. “He’s a demon now. He’s no longer an angel. He serves Lucifer.”

He looks at me a moment longer, stunned. Then, as quick as lightning, the gun is in my face again. “You did this!” His hand shakes just the smallest bit, and I can see in his eyes that it’s not from fear. He shakes with rage. “I never shoulda let ya near her after I knew what ya were. I was a stupid old fool, thinkin’ I saw myself in ya. Thinkin’ ya were like me and Frannie’s grandma.” He growls, mostly at himself, and looks as though he’s about to pull the trigger.

I just stare at him, no longer caring either way. I still believe Frannie’d be better off with me gone. But I feel a weary sigh leave my chest at the realization that this would send her grandfather to Hell, and I owe it to both of them to see that that doesn’t happen.

His hand shakes harder as rage and hatred twist across his features. And even though I no longer have my demonic sense of smell, I’d swear I catch the black pepper of his fury. He steps closer and thrusts the gun at me.

I hold his eyes. “Help me find her. Please,” I say, my voice measured.

His jaw clenches and his eyes burn. The bed of the fingernail on his trigger finger blanches with the increasing pressure as it slowly pulls tighter on the trigger. I wait for the blast as the gun discharges, but I don’t flinch. I continue to stare into his eyes. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he drops his hand back to his side and starts to pace.

“So she left…” His eyes shoot back to mine and narrow. “Snuck out.”

I nod.

“If she left, there was probably a reason.”

I drop my eyes. “Maggie,” I say, not wanting to see the look on his face. “Frannie thinks she’s in trouble.”

“Maggie,” he repeats.

Gabriel insisted that Maggie was fine, and I know he can’t lie, but I’ve started questioning his powers of perception. “There’s a demon, Marchosias. Frannie thinks Maggie’s been … spending time with him.”

I lift my eyes warily and he’s glaring at me, catching the full meaning to my words. “Claire and Daniel didn’t say nothin’ about Maggie seein’ nobody.”

“Her parents might not know.”

“She’s a goddamn kid!” he shouts. “Holy God almighty.” He drops the gun on the end table next to the loveseat and rubs his forehead. His whole body softens as he leans on both arms on the back of the loveseat, his head hanging between his shoulders. “So Frannie thinks she can help Maggie,” he says, his voice uneven but lower.

“Gabriel has been watching Maggie, hoping Frannie will show up at the house, but I’m afraid something’s wrong.” I don’t add that I’m sure that “something” has to do with Matt.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he mutters. “What’re we gonna do?”

I step to the fireplace at the back of the small room and lean an elbow on the mantel, my head in my hand. I’m not sure if he’s talking about Frannie or Maggie, but either way the answer is the same. “I don’t know.”

Between my fingers I glimpse a copy of the same picture of Frannie and Matt that she has in her room. They’re seven and covered in grease after working with Ed in the garage. I lift my head and run a finger over the glass, wishing with everything I am that I could have kept her safe.

Absently, I scan the multitude of photos lining the mantel, crowding each other out, two and three deep in places. There are others of Frannie, mostly with her family, but then one tucked in the back catches my eye and I go instantly cold.

“Unholy Hell,” I hear myself say.

Ed lifts his head and looks at me with anxious eyes. “What?”

I pull the framed picture from the mantel and hold it closer for a better look. The picture is old, the colors dull and faded. In it, a young woman crouches on the front porch of a brick house, and in her arms is a squirming little boy dressed in a white turtleneck and dark pants. He’s kicking at her full skirt in his effort to free himself from her grasp. But even so, she’s smiling at him, contentment all over her face. And crouching next to her, the little boy’s tiny fingers wrapped tightly around one of his, is someone I haven’t seen in over half a century.