Cataclysm (Alternate Earth Series, Book One) (22 page)

“Excuse me if what I’m about to ask is inappropriate,” the same female reporter says, “but is your urgency due to the stork making an unplanned delivery?”

Ravan and Gabriel look at each other, both smiling at the question, which is the only answer they seem to need to give. The flashes of cameras suddenly erupt in the room, as everyone seems to want a picture to mark the moment for posterity’s sake.

“You can’t be serious,” I say in disbelief and slight disgust. “That’s impossible. She can’t get pregnant by a rebellion angel. She would have to be…”

The possibility of what Ravan truly is hits me in that instant. It makes sense. It would explain why the princes are keeping her so close to them and allowing her to stand in the spotlight.

I look over at Mason. “Can she be a descendant of Lillith?”

Mason looks at me with a troubled expression on his handsome face.

“If she’s actually pregnant, she would have to be,” he replies with dread.

I turn my attention back to the hologram of Ravan, wondering what the princes of this reality have planned for her. The only thing I’m certain of is that it won’t be anything good.

I don’t pay a lot of attention to what else is said during the news conference because most of it is just talk about the upcoming nuptials. It’s simply an excuse to give the people of the world something to rally behind and find joy in. In times of crisis, leaders have often used the distraction tactic to either calm a populace or keep their attention away from something that might cause unrest. I’m not completely sure what the princes’ reasoning is in this situation, but I know Ravan isn’t in love with Gabriel. I’m not even sure if either is capable of feeling such an emotion for another person.

After the news conference is over, Ravan and Gabriel walk hand in hand down the red carpet and further into the White House.

Another man, one I haven’t encountered in this world yet, but know from our reality, walks from the left side of the room to stand behind the podium.

“If any of you have any more questions, I will be happy to try and answer them for you,” the djinn I know as Faust says.

“I guess I should have realized he would be here,” I say to Mason. “Since that first meeting with him to get Leah’s staff, I guess I just blocked his existence from my mind.”

“It does help explain Ravan’s mother winning the lottery, though,” Mason says. “I’m sure she made a deal with him to make that happen.”

“Do you think his deal is with Ravan now?” I ask. “Maybe that was the plan all along, to use one of Lillith’s descendants to take the world over at a time of their choosing.”

“It makes sense,” Mason agrees.

“But what do they want with her?”

“Lillith and her descendants have the power to phase into Heaven,” Mason reminds me, “but I’m not sure what purpose that would serve them here in this reality.”

“Lucifer tried to use Lilly to phase into Heaven to destroy the universe, right?”

“Yes, but that was a special circumstance. Lilly’s birth is what started the thinning of the veils in the first place. She was the first child of an Archangel. Plus, there was a host of other factors in play at the time. Those don’t apply here.”

“Even if Lucian possessed Ravan and phased into Heaven,” I say, “what could he do there?”

“I’m not sure he would be given the time to do much of anything,” Mason replies. “As soon as he got there, God would just return him to Earth. It’s an action that doesn’t have much of a point. No, I think they’re planning something else that we’re just not seeing yet.”

I dislike not knowing what the princes have planned. It makes it impossible for us to set up a countermove to stop them. Our inability to get important pieces of information frustrates me, being kept in the dark when so many lives are at stake twists my stomach into knots. We need answers, and we need them before the princes destroy what’s left of this reality.

After the news conference, we have an impromptu meeting with the others. Mason and I tell everyone our theory that Ravan is a descendant of Lillith.

“So, what,” Chandler says, “she’s like the anti-Lilly?”

“Well, we know for a fact that Ravan doesn’t have any angelic DNA,” Brand says. “The tests that we ran on her blood showed that much. At least we know she isn’t a child of an Archangel like your Lilly is.”

“Then she could simply be a descendant,” I say.

“Do you happen to have any of Ravan’s blood left,” Malcolm asks, “to run one more test on?”

“No, we used it all trying to find something different about her. Why do you ask?” Brand says.

“In our reality, Allen Westwood sequenced Lilly’s mitochondrial DNA. It was completely different from anyone else’s in the world except for her mother and grandmother. If Ravan is a descendant of Lillith’s, you should be able to look at the sequence and tell.”

“We’ll need to get another sample then,” Brand says with a heavy sigh, as though the task might be a difficult one. “It will take some time.”

“I think it’s worth the time and risk,” Mason says. “It will at least give us a definitive answer.”

“I really don’t like that woman,” Leah says, shivering slightly at the mention of Ravan. “Just seeing her as a hologram gave me the creeps. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to actually be in the same room with her.”

JoJo places a comforting arm around Leah’s shoulders.

“I agree one hundred percent,” JoJo tells her, full of sympathy. “She is very scary.”

“Nina,” Brand says, “I want you, Isaiah, and Baruch to see if you can find a way to get another sample of Ravan’s blood. You might start with any doctors she’s seen lately. If this baby thing is real and not just a ploy, her doctor is bound to have some on hand for testing purposes.”

“We’ll find a way to get it,” Nina promises.

“Most of the time, doctors send blood samples to a lab in the nearest hospital,” Rafe tells Nina. “I might be of some use to you there. I can speak the lingo in case anyone asks questions and help you find the sample inside the lab itself.”

Nina considers Rafe’s offer carefully before nodding her head. “Thank you. That would be helpful.”

Rafe smiles at Nina’s acceptance of his offer to help, but she doesn’t return the expression. As Rafe’s smile slips from his face, he looks perplexed by Nina’s lack of enthusiasm about them working together. I feel sorry for my friend. I fear he may have chosen to care for someone who isn’t capable of returning his feelings easily, or even at all.

“Brand,” Sophia says, drawing our attention to her, “I’ve been talking with Jered and Tristan about another attempt to talk Logan into leaving her father. I want your permission to make contact with her again.”

“Do you think it’s wise to try again so soon after your last effort?” Brand asks cautiously. I can tell by the doubtful expression on his face that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea.

  “Dillon is giving a concert in a few days in Central Park,” Sophia says. “Logan never misses her sister’s performances. It might be one of the only times Tristan can get close enough to Logan to talk with her.”

“Why would she listen to anything Tristan has to say?” I ask, not seeing Tristan as an advantage in Sophia’s plan.

“She might not,” Tristan agrees. “We’re hoping she’ll feel a connection to me, since I’m basically her counterpart in our reality.”

“Do you think your souls are the same?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Tristan admits. “I’m not really sure how I could tell something like that.”

“Well, don’t touch her,” Malcolm warns. “Even though your bodies are completely different, the energy that forms your souls can’t coexist in the same place. I don’t want to see you vanish.”

“Thanks for your concern,” Tristan says, unable to hide his surprise that Malcolm cares about his welfare.

“I’ll make sure he keeps his distance,” Jered assures us.

Desmond walks into the room.

“I have good news,” Desmond declares cheerily.

“We could use some right about now,” I tell him. “What is it?”

“I just got through speaking with Noel. Xavier almost has Boldt Castle ready for all of you to move in to.”

“That is good news,” Brand says, a true smile gracing his face.

“He has people working on one last project,” Desmond says, looking in my direction. “It was something you personally requested.”

“It has to be the anti-phasing room for my Lucifer,” I say, unable to think of anything else I wanted.

“He asked that you meet him on the island in the morning,” Desmond tells us. “He needs a little more time before everything is ready.”

“Then I suggest we all try to get some rest,” Brand says. “Who knows what we’ll have to face tomorrow?”

Everyone begins to walk out of the room and towards the great chamber.

“Brand, Jess, and Mason,” Malcolm calls out before we leave, gaining our attention.

All three of us stop our exit and walk back to Malcolm. By the serious look on his face, it’s obvious he has something important he wants to share with us.

“I have an idea,” Malcolm says, after everyone else is gone. “I’ve been thinking about the way the princes have been searching for whatever it is they’re trying to find. Everything they’re doing is connected with King Solomon in some way. I think I know where else we can look, but,” Malcolm looks at Brand hard, “you are
forbidden
to tell Xavier what we’re doing and where we’re going.”

Brand nods. “I understand.”

“Where do you think we should look?” I ask.

“The place where King Solomon is actually buried,” Malcolm tells us. “Lilly went there once to retrieve his ring. The only problem is that the Horace in our reality was the one who phased her down to the tomb. Is there a djinn here by the name of Horace?”

“Yes,” Brand says, “he’s a squalid little man. He used to own a pawnshop in New York City. Apparently, he lost the item he uses to start deals with people. I want to say it’s a ring of some sort. He shut the pawnshop down when Ravan came into power. I’m not sure where he is now.”

“Ok, then his life is basically the same here as it was in our reality,” Malcolm says. “That’s good. Chances are he can phase someone down to King Solomon’s tomb. We just need to find him.”

“I’ll have Slade look for him,” Brand says.

“You said some
one
. Why just one person?” I ask. “Why not all of us? The more of us who go down, the quicker the search will go.”

“Odds are that anything of great value will be inside Solomon’s crypt itself,” Malcolm says. “One person should be enough to retrieve it.”

“But why?” I press.

“There are spirits that guard the tomb,” Malcolm says. “Only someone pure of heart can go down there and not be affected by them. Otherwise, they can drive a person mad by using their guilt against them. I don’t know about you, but that kind of leaves me out of the running of doing a snatch and grab.”

I stop and think about this for a moment before suggesting a solution.

“Do you think these spirits can be affected by Chandler’s music?” I propose. “Maybe he can mollify them long enough for us to search the tomb.”

“It could solve the problem,” Malcolm says, considering my plan. “There’s just no way to know for sure until we’re down there. As long as the boy isn’t affected by them, it might work.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but the only person I know to be true of heart is Leah, and I’m not about to let her go down there by herself.”

“No. We can’t let her go alone,” Malcolm agrees.

“How are we going to get Horace to help us?” Mason asks.

“We had to retrieve his ring for him in our reality,” Malcolm says.

“Wait,” I say remembering the story of Horace’s ring. “Isn’t Faust the one who took the ring from Horace?”

“Yes.”

“Great,” I say with a heavy sigh as I feel a sudden migraine squeeze my temples. “Why can’t anything ever be easy?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Before Mason and I leave to go back into the great chamber, I pull Brand off to the side to ask him to do me a favor.

“You want a pregnancy test?” he asks me in surprise.

“Keep your voice down,” I tell him, chancing a glance in Mason’s direction, to make sure he didn’t overhear anything. Thankfully, he’s still talking with Malcolm. “Can you get me one or not?”

“I’ll get you one,” Brand promises.

“Thanks. And don’t tell Mason anything. I don’t want to get his hopes up for nothing.”

“I promise I won’t say anything,” Brand says. “My lips are sealed on the subject.”

When I rejoin my husband so we can go to our cots to get some sleep, he says, “I’m guessing I shouldn’t even ask what that was all about.”

“And your guess would be correct,” I say, “so don’t ask.”

Luckily, Rafe isn’t asleep when Mason and I return to the darkened great chamber. He is lying on his cot, reading a book with the aid of a small flashlight.

“Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll join you after I have Rafe heal my headache,” I tell Mason.

Mason leans in and kisses me on the lips. “Don’t pry too much,” he warns me, knowing my true intentions for wanting to be alone with Rafe.

“I just want to make sure he’s all right,” I say, unable to hide my worry for one of the sweetest men I know. “Nina can be a little…abrasive. Honestly, I wish he had picked someone else to show an interest in.”

“Nina needs what Rafe has to offer,” Mason says, with a great deal of empathy for his fellow Watcher. “Odds are she probably doesn’t even realize that fact. I hope she does before it’s too late, though. Allowing yourself to love someone else is a joy everyone should be allowed to experience at least once in their lifetime.”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic,” I tell my husband, loving him even more for the way he cares about others.

“I just know how love can change a person,” he tells me. “I was quite intolerable before I met you.”

“Oh, I know,” I say. “I was told how insufferable you were by those who had to work with you. They considered me a miracle-worker for being able to make you actually smile.”

“Then don’t begrudge Nina any happiness she might be able to find with Rafe. You might just see a change in her, too.”

“Ok. I won’t ask Rafe to give up on her, even if I’m not completely sold on the pairing. He’s a grown man; he can make his own decisions about his romantic life.”

“Can I get that in writing for him?” Mason jokes; a joke that earns him a hard pinch on the arm.

“Ow,” Mason complains, rubbing the injured spot. “You know, when I’m human, you’re going to have to watch what you do to my fragile human body. I won’t be able to regenerate anymore.”

“No,” I say, “you’ll just have to toughen up so you can take a pinch or two from me.”

“Does that mean I get to pinch you back?” Mason asks, taking me into his arms and whispering in my ear, “In a place of my own choosing, which would most definitely not be on the arm and cause far more pleasure than pain.”

“You’re such a tease,” I say, pushing away from him. “Besides, I have a headache. I need to go see my doctor.”

“I’ll be waiting for you on your cot…underneath the covers…eager to have you back in my arms…”

“For some much-needed sleep?”

Mason smiles wickedly. “Sleep really wasn’t on my mind, Jess. I think you might need a reminder that there is a multitude of pleasurable things my hands can do to you beneath the safe shelter of a blanket or two.”

“I’ll be there in exactly five minutes,” I promise him.

As I quickly turn to make my way over to Rafe, I hear Mason chuckle behind me as he walks back to my cot.

“Rafe, I need your help,” I say in a quiet voice, so I don’t disturb those already asleep in the room.

Rafe immediately sits up on his cot and sets his book down beside him. I glance at the cover and see that it’s a leather-bound copy of
A Tale of Two Cities
. The irony of bringing such a selection isn’t lost on me.

“What’s wrong, Jess?” Rafe asks with concern as I sit down beside him.

“I have a splitting headache,” I confess.

Rafe smiles and lifts his right hand up to lay it across my forehead. I close my eyes and sigh as I feel his healing touch take my pain away. Rafe’s healing doesn’t happen automatically. It’s a bit like the ebb and flow of an ocean wave as it washes up on shore. Each wave of healing slowly peels away a layer of pain.

“There,” Rafe says, removing his hand. “All better?”

I open my eyes and look over at him. “Yes. Thank you.”

Rafe watches me expectantly, waiting for me to say something else.

I clear my throat, suddenly feeling as though I’ve become too predictable.

“So,” I begin, “what’s going on with you and Nina?”

Rafe grins, “Not much; at least not yet.”

I sigh. “Listen, I’m only asking because I care about you, Rafe. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I know, Jess,” Rafe says, as understanding as always. “I’m not in love with her, at least not yet. I find her interesting. I want to get to know her better, if she’ll let me. She’s so guarded, though,” Rafe says in slight frustration. “You know, last night when we had supper together, I could tell she was enjoying herself. She seemed to like being with me, but she never fully allowed herself to relax.”

“She’s been through a lot,” I reply, finding it odd that I feel a need to take up for Nina. Apparently, Mason’s words pushed my sympathy button. “I doubt she’s ever met someone like you, Rafe. You have an openness about you that makes people feel comfortable enough to share not only their physical pain but also their emotional distress with you. If anyone can reach Nina, I think you’re the man who can work that miracle. Maybe one reason you were brought here is to help remind her that fighting isn’t all there is to life.”

Rafe looks away from me as he considers my words.

“I hope so,” he says in a low voice, before looking back at me. “Thanks, Jess. I needed to hear some encouraging words.”

“Just follow what your heart is telling you to do,” I say. “It will never lead you down the wrong path.”

Rafe nods. “I will.”

I lean over and give Rafe a quick peck on the cheek. “Hang in there, Romeo. All you need is a good balcony scene to win the fair maiden’s heart.”

Rafe laughs quietly, “Let me know if you happen to run across a balcony I can use.”

I leave Rafe, feeling better about the situation between him and Nina. If it’s meant to be, it will be. After all these years, I’ve at least figured that much out. Sometimes fate just needs a little nudge to set certain puzzle pieces in their rightful places. Perhaps Rafe’s presence in this reality is what Nina has been waiting for all her life. She just hasn’t quite figured that out yet.

When I make it back to my cot, I notice that Mason has pulled it as far away from those around us as possible. My husband is right where he said he would be, safely nestled underneath our covers, beckoning me with his bedroom eyes and that damn incorrigible smile of his to join him. I quickly take off my jacket to do just that.

“Now,” I whisper as I snuggle up to my husband’s warmth, “what was it exactly that you want to remind me about your hands?”

Mason pulls the heavy wool blankets up over our heads, effectively blocking out the sound of those softly snoring in the chamber.

“Just the fact,” he whispers back as his hands find the waistband of my pants, “that you don’t have to be completely naked for me to pleasure you.”

As one of Mason’s hands finds its way down to demonstrate his point, I look into my husband’s eyes.

“Not that I’m complaining,” I say breathlessly, “but what about your pleasure?”

“Watching how you react when I do this,” he murmurs, increasing the tempo of the song his hand is playing with my body, “gives me a great deal of pleasure, Jess. I’m the only man who can or ever will make you feel this sensation. So don’t think I’m not receiving my own form of gratification. I promise you that I am.”

I bite down on my lower lip, doing my best to keep quiet as Mason continues to work his own particular form of magic on me. When I feel on the verge of losing control, I grip Mason’s shoulders tightly, only allowing myself a small groan of pleasure. Mason kisses me deeply, making my already-pounding heart race even faster. I expect him to remove his hand from where it is, but he doesn’t. He simply gives me a moment to recover before building a new fire that burns even hotter the second time.

Afterwards, Mason puts my clothes back in order, and holds me in his arms.

“Sweet dreams, Jess,” he says, kissing me on the forehead before I snuggle up against his chest.

I smile as I close my eyes, because I know not even the sweetest of dreams can compare to the extraordinary life I share with my husband.

After breakfast the next morning, Brand asks Mason, Malcolm, and me to go to Boldt Castle with him to meet with Xavier.

“Are you going to ask him?” I ask Brand, feeling my earlier anger with Xavier return. “Are you going to find out if he betrayed us and told the princes about Allen and Angela?”

“Yes,” Brand says cautiously, since it’s obvious I’m still upset over the issue, “but, as I said before, we need to give him a chance to explain why he did it, if he did it.”

“Who else could have?” I demand. “We all know it was him. No one else had the knowledge or opportunity.”

“I agree with Brand,” Malcolm says. “We should hear what he has to say before you chop his head off, Jess.”

“I didn’t say I was going to chop his head off,” I grumble, “but it’s not an option I’m willing to take off the table.”

“Let’s listen to his side of the story,” Mason suggests to me. “You know as well as I do that there are always two sides.”

I sigh. “All right; let’s go and hear how well he’s able to defend himself.”

We all join hands and Brand phases us inside Boldt Castle.

We end up standing in a large foyer, a grand white marble staircase with a polished wood banister curving up both left and right to the second floor. Xavier is sitting on a step of the lower portion of the stairs with his elbows resting on his thighs and hands clasped together in front of him. His eyes are closed, making me wonder if he’s praying.

“Xavier,” Brand says, drawing this world’s Malcolm out of his quiet reverie.

Xavier opens his eyes and looks at us.

“Are you going to let me explain or do you have another, far more unpleasant, plan in mind?” he asks warily.

“All I have to say is that it had better be a good explanation,” I tell him, unable to keep my anger out of my voice.

Xavier rises to his feet and walks down the few steps to stand in front of us.

“If I hadn’t felt sure you could handle the situation,” Xavier begins, “I wouldn’t have said anything. I think we can all agree that sometimes you have to do things that you don’t care for in order to make sure you can win a war, even if that means losing a battle here and there. In order for us to win this particular war, I need to find a way to be included inside the princes’ inner circle. Micah doesn’t tell Ava every move the princes make. I think that’s obvious since he didn’t tell her the princes were opening the seals. Sometimes they do things and don’t tell the Watchers who help them until the last possible moment. Even a minute or two of foreknowledge about their plans can mean the difference between winning and losing. If I’m part of the circle of trust, I can warn you about things that happen on the spot. The only way for me to gain their confidence is to give them information that they want. I have to prove my worth and usefulness to them in any way I can.”

“You put Angela’s life in danger,” I say, still seething over her nearly being killed by Asmodeus. “She could have died.”

“And there aren’t enough words available to me to say how much I regret what happened,” Xavier says, “but sometimes sacrifices have to be made.”

Without even thinking, I suddenly find myself hitting Xavier square in the jaw with a right hook. He stumbles back a step from the impact. I know it’s about the only satisfaction I will get. I shake my hand out to lessen the pain from the strike.

Xavier looks back at me. “Did that make you feel better?”

“A little,” I admit, unashamed of my action.

“You can do it again if you feel like you need to,” he offers.

“I think the urge is out of my system, for now,” I amend, “but I want it made crystal clear that I don’t agree with you. Every life is valuable, and I don’t particularly want you to be the one who determines who lives or dies.”

“It would have been nice if you had given us some warning,” Brand says to Xavier.

“I couldn’t,” Xavier replies regretfully. “If you had known they were coming beforehand, you would have been prepared. You needed to act naturally, or they would have known I tipped you off.”

“Well, did your scheme work, at least?” Malcolm asks, trying to salvage something to redeem Xavier’s actions.

Xavier hesitates before responding, hinting that I’m not going to like the answer.

“I’m not sure yet,” Xavier confesses. “I have hope that it will prove fruitful in the long run. There was never a guarantee that it would work, and if I look too eager to be included in their exclusive club, they’ll get suspicious. It might take a while before I know if it was a gamble worth taking.”