Redemption (43 page)

“What did you do?” Luther asked hoarsely as I faced his sister again.

Lexi’s face was contorted and she was fighting hard not to scream as her body began to convulse. Her skin began to move. It was a grotesque sight, but I couldn’t look away. What
had
I done?

“Fuck!” Luther cried out as a beam of light suddenly burst through Lexi’s stomach.

He backed away quickly. Lexi was looking down at her body in horror. Another beam of light burst forth from her hands. I wasn’t afraid of it. The light was mine. She looked at me. And I felt pity.

“I’m not a mortal,” I whispered as a beam of light shot forth from her heart.

This time she did scream. It was a terrible, terrible sound, and I closed my eyes tightly. I had never intentionally killed anything in my life. And I knew she was dead. Knew there was no way she could have survived it. There was an awful sulfuric smell, and I gagged.

“What was that?” Luther screamed.

I could hear him pacing the area. I had killed his twin. I had killed someone’s sister. I put my hands over my face even though my eyes were still closed. I felt shame.

“What did she do? I’ve never seen anything like it before! Ever!” Luther shrieked as he moved across the yard.

I peeked through my hands to find him leaning over a small black stain in the grass. Lexi. I sobbed silently. I’d killed her. Marcas gently took my hands away and placed them over the black t-shirt he had pressed it into my neck. I held it there as he moved away from me. The serpent on his back almost seemed to move as he walked, and I focused on it. I had to concentrate on anything other than the black stain.

“She fed Lexi her power,” Marcas said smoothly.

 Luther stared at him in disbelief. My gaze moved between the two men. Was that not supposed to be possible?

“Can she do that?” he asked.

Marcas just looked at the stain. It was answer enough. Luther glanced between me and the stain. There was regret in his eyes but not sorrow.

“She could change the tide of war for the Demons,” Luther said suddenly in awe. I felt anger course through me. I stared at Luther sullenly.

“I won’t fight for your side," I snarled. I wouldn’t help the Demons win the war.

Luther faced me. His eyes were still red. I knew he smelled my blood, but he kept his distance.

“Then you’d fight for the Angels?” he asked darkly. I saw the anger smoldering in his eyes. I shook my head.

“I won’t fight for either of you. I won’t be a pawn of this war at all. I just want to go home.” I answered.

My small bedroom at the Abbey didn’t seem so bad anymore. Luther watched me for a moment as if he were trying to gauge my intent. He finally nodded before looking at Marcas.

“You’re right. We need to get you two unbound,” he said evenly.

Marcas didn’t reply. I saw Luther glance between the two of us before slapping Marcas soundly on the shoulder. Only a Demon could recover so quickly after seeing his sister killed.

“I don’t envy you, brother. I wouldn’t want that soul either,” Luther murmured.

 I watched the two men silently. It should hurt that neither cared to have what I treasured most, but I was simply happy that my soul wasn’t an issue. The sound of grass rustling made me look up, and I found myself gazing into Monroe’s astonished face. She stood far enough away that she could take the whole scene in with one big sweep. Her gaze found mine.

“What happened?” she mouthed. I looked at the black stain again.

“
I’m not a mortal.”

Chapter 33

The rare Naphil causing fear among the ranks is a half mortal, half Angel being who retains the power of her Angelic father while retaining the mortality of her mortal mother. Her emotions are human ones; her need for earthly things is human; her heart is human. But, in the end, her strength, her soul, her death is and will be an Angelic one.

~Bezaliel~

“Dayton?” Monroe asked uncertainly as she drew cautiously closer to the three of us.

I looked up at her blankly. I wasn’t in shock. I was just assimilating a lot of information at once. I noticed the sun hung low behind Monroe’s back and my gaze moved to her face. She read the question there.

“They’ve spotted the Demons. It will be soon,” she answered. I nodded wearily. Monroe’s gaze scanned the area.

“Lexi?” she asked simply. I think she knew what had happened. A petulant Luther, a shirtless Marcas, and a black stain on the grass between them didn’t leave much to the imagination. Monroe’s eyes locked with Luther’s. A look passed between them. She turned back to me.

“We need to move,” she said softly. Marcas and Luther made their way over to us, and I pulled Marcas’ shirt away from my neck.

“I’m assuming you two still plan to go after the ring,” Monroe said as I handed the shirt back to Marcas. He took it gingerly before suddenly making it disappear. Another shirt, a clean one, appeared in his hand and he pulled it over his head. 

“You know about the ring?” I asked carefully. 

“I told her,” Luther said as we all began to move toward the house. I looked between the two warily. Monroe stared at the ground.

“She can help us,” Luther defended.

 I didn’t argue with him there. I was more worried about the connection I’d seen pass between the two of them. I’d had my fill of Demon related problems. I wanted to say something but decided not to go there. Time was short. Luther stopped suddenly, his gaze finding Monroe's and then Marcas.'

"I take my leave here, brother. This is not my fight. Not yet," Luther said. Marcas nodded as Monroe and I both watched them solemnly. Luther turned to us and bowed.

"Ladies, it has been a pleasure," he said with a smirk. I knew he was lying, but it was no less charming. Monroe watched him with an unreadable expression as I reached out and touched his hand.

"Thank you," I said seriously. He may be a Demon, but he had helped us. And I had killed his sister. I wanted to apologize but there were no words big enough. He backed away, his eyes finding Monroe's a moment before Marcas nudged us.

"Walk," Marcas ordered. We obeyed. A "whooshing" noise sounded behind us, and I knew Luther had taken flight. I started to reach for Monroe, but she surprised me by taking my hand firmly in hers.

“Take this,” she said unexpectedly, her voice shaking. I knew she'd not wanted to see Luther go, but she brushed it aside with a cool composure only Monroe could pull off. She handed me a necklace made of twine with a small piece of clear quartz hanging from its center. I took it.

“It’s charmed,” she said sheepishly. 

I smiled at her. I had never believed much in charms, spells, or potions but the experiences I’d had recently vastly changed my opinion. Anything seemed possible at this point. I fastened it carefully around my neck. It felt warm. I took Monroe's hand in mine and squeezed.

“They’re approaching,” Ethan Jacobs announced as we stepped into the house.

I shivered. I wasn’t sure I was up to the battle I knew was coming. I saw Mrs. Jacobs gather with her Coven in the foyer. With a piece of chalk, she began drawing a circle at the foot of the grand staircase. People were running everywhere.

“There’s at least a hundred,” a man yelled from across the house.

I glanced at Marcas. A hundred? The Demon ranks had grown. Another voice replied to the man’s yell in Italian, and I looked up to find Alessandro hurrying down the stairs. He motioned at the blonde woman we’d met the night before. She rushed to him, and he whispered something into her ear. She went running. Alessandro looked up and caught our eyes.

“You will stay on these grounds within sight of my people, Demonio. You and the Angel,” Alessandro ordered as he hurried to the back entrance.

 Everyone was ready for a fight. Some even looked excited. I just wanted to hide.

“Are you okay?” a male voice asked softly, and I turned around to see Conor leaning casually against the wall beside us. I hadn’t heard him approach over the noise in the house. I nodded.

"It’s going to be a big night, Red."

 Our eyes were locked. I nodded again.

“Be careful,” he warned.

I knew he was aware of our intent. I stepped toward him.

“Do you know how to fight these things, Con?” I asked hesitantly.

I didn’t want to seem too worried about his welfare, but I was. He smiled the kind of smile that made Conor the boy I loved in so many different ways.  With one corner of his lips curled upward and his eyes shining bright, I could read a touch of humor mixed with mischief. It made me smile. He never failed to do that.

“I’m a sight to behold,” he bragged as he wagged his brows flirtatiously. I actually found myself laughing.

“I don’t doubt that," I said with a chuckle. Someone shouted his name and he looked up.

“That’s my cue,” he said as he pushed away from the wall. I reached out and touched his arm carefully. He paused and looked down at me.

“Please be careful, Con."

 He grinned and winked at me. Neither one of us mentioned the kiss we’d shared or talked about feelings expressed and unexpressed. We just smiled at each other. Sometimes the best farewell is the kind you can laugh at. Conor wasn’t a boy anymore.

“As you wish, Red. Gargoyles have a knack for this kind of thing. When this is over, I’ll introduce you to what we can do,” Conor said lightly.

I nodded. We weren’t saying goodbye. The ring was the next step. After that, I fully intended to take him up on his offer.

“I look forward to it,” I murmured as Conor’s name was called again. He started to walk away, but I pulled him toward me for a quick hug before finally letting go. There was no need for words.

“Don't let him die,” I prayed as I watched him fade into the group of people gathering at the entrance. The lawn would be full of warriors. We were as ready as were going to get. I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Keep low, Day,” Monroe pleaded.

I looked up to find her eyes shrouded with tears. My throat closed up. I hadn’t had the time I wanted with her today and I was feeling the hollowness that came with fearing for someone else’s life. I had brought Monroe into this. If something happened, I wasn’t sure I could forgive myself. I watched her with regret.

“Don’t, Day!” Monroe said fiercely as she slapped my arm hard. I winced at the sting.

“I know that look, Dayton Marie. Drop the guilt. I would have been involved in this even if you had tied me up and thrown me into a padlocked cement box. It’s been a journey full of revelations for us both. And it’s just the beginning. Besides, two of the bad guys are hot,” Monroe whispered with a wink.

I tried to laugh, but I couldn't. The first tear of the battle fell, leaving a track on my dust covered cheek. Just the beginning. And yet I was so ready for the end.

It’s time,” a voice said from behind us, and I turned to find Mrs. Jacobs watching us wistfully.

I think she knew we’d both had to deal with feelings of betrayal. Despite that, I envied Monroe her mother. I hugged Mrs. Jacobs hard without warning and she patted me on the back of the head. Monroe took my hand.

“Good luck,” I whispered.

A sob escaped Monroe. I let go of Mrs. Jacobs and stepped away from the two of them.

“She’s a good mom, Roe, and you are more sister to me than friend."

Monroe smiled despite her tears.

“I know,” she said. “And ditto.”

Mrs. Jacobs took her daughter’s hand. The Coven beckoned at them both, and I nodded at Lita. She smiled and winked.

“It’ll be over before you know it,” Mrs. Jacobs said as she led Monroe away.

I smiled despite my doubt. I wasn’t sure it’d ever be over for me.

“Time to go, Blainey,” Marcas said coldly from behind me, and I turned with a sigh.

“No way out of it, huh?” I asked half-heartedly.

“Death,” Marcas answered.

I scowled while shoving away the tear that still clung stubbornly to my cheek. He couldn’t be comforting just this once? I gave him a look.

“I never saw any point in cushioning the truth,” Marcas said as he took me by the elbow and led me through the crowd. A few glanced curiously our way. I avoided as many gazes as I could.

“Where are we going?” I hissed as Marcas made his way stealthily to a living area on the first floor.

The first level didn’t end with the foyer and parlor. The house extended backward almost as far as it extended upward, and the living area we suddenly found ourselves in was awe-inspiring because of its main feature: a floor to ceiling picture window facing the vineyard I’d spotted earlier.  Marcas stopped in front of the glass and stared. I came to stand next to him.

“Use your night vision, Blainey,” Marcas ordered, and I looked at him a moment warily before complying.

It was dusk outside. There was still light visible above the trees and even more so in the vineyards. It made it possible to see without using any special abilities, but it was getting difficult. I wrapped my light around my eyes and opened them slowly. I hadn’t even had a chance to focus when Marcas put a hand steadily on my shoulder.