Faith (Soul Savers Book 7) (37 page)

His brows scrunched
together. Sadness filled his eyes. “That’s it? Only in
us?”

I flinched. “
Only?
That’s always been enough. We’ve survived everything
we’ve been faced with—your years away with the Daemoni,
the trial against you and us as a couple, what Kali did to you,
Dorian’s kidnapping—we’ve survived it all because
of our love. We escaped
Hell
because of our love, Tristan.
Because of you and me. Our love has always been enough. Until now …”

“But it still is.
Because it’s more than just you and me, Lex. It always has
been.”

Tears pooled,
threatening to spill over the rims as I shook my head. “No. In
the end, it’s only been us. Nobody else cares. Not the Angels.
Not God.”

“The Angels
brought us out of Hell, Alexis. We didn’t do that.”

“Not the second
time. They wanted me to leave you there!
I
went back for you,
Tristan. Bree and me.
I
got us out of there.” I
swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat as I still fought
back the tears. The next words came out as a whisper. “I could
only save us, though. Not Bree or the rest of the faeries. And now,
not the Amadis or the Normans. Maybe not even our son. We’re
not enough.
I’m
not enough.”

His eyes held mine as
they pierced even further into my heart, into my soul, as though
searching for some underlying belief I wasn’t voicing. But I’d
put it all out there. Exactly how I felt. Exactly what I
knew
.
Ugly dark stains and all.

With a sad sigh, he
pulled me closer to him and pressed his lips against my forehead for
a long moment. Then he backed away, holding me at arm’s reach.
When he spoke, his voice held more torment than it had when he’d
found my body buried in the marble remnants of the Jefferson
Memorial.

“Alexis, my love,
as long as you believe everything we’ve accomplished has been
on our own, without any help, you’re just as arrogant as Lucas.
You’ll never be better than him or the Ancients or Lucifer
himself.”

I
blinked, speechless.

“I love you more
than life,” he continued, “but I no longer recognize your
soul.”

My mouth fell open. I
snapped it shut, but my jaw went slack again as I stared at him,
opening and closing my mouth like a fish as no words came. My heart
felt as though he’d physically shoved his hand into my chest
cavity, grasped it in his fist, and wrenched it around. The dam
broke, and the tears that had been threatening finally spilled.

“What do you want
me to do?” I cried. “I can’t change any of this!”

“That’s
what I’m trying to tell you, Lex. You don’t have to
change any of this. It’s not up to you. All you have to do is
believe. Put your faith in the right place. If you could see what we
see …” His gaze lifted, sweeping over the mountaintops
around us. “You would know. You only have to change your own
heart.”

“Let go and let
God?” I asked skeptically. “That’s what you’re
telling me will win this war?”

“That’s
exactly what I mean.”

I blinked against the
tears.
Easier said than done
. I could so easily say it if the
words alone would bring us victory. But it’s one thing to say
everything had been handed over to God, or anyone else, and an
entirely different thing to live that way. Nearly impossible.
Decisions still had to be made. We still had to take action and move
forward. We had responsibilities and people depending on us. The
world in fact! Wouldn’t it be nice to simply let go?

We all had those
moments where we wanted to throw our papers in the air and say, “Fuck
this shit,” letting the pages fall as they may. Letting someone
else take over. But not too many people could actually leave them
there. Most would stare at the pieces for a moment with a brief sense
of freedom, but then realize what they’d done. Panic because of
everything at stake. “Just kidding!” they’d say as
they scrambled to pick up the pieces and regain control.

That was me. I’d
become a control freak. Feeling responsible for the future of the
entire world would do that to you. I wanted so much to believe
someone had our backs. I wanted to trust God and hand everything over
to Him so badly that I physically hurt inside, as though my heart and
soul were twisting up and shriveling in on each other. But the
thought of letting go and risking everything, every
one
,
created a paralyzing fear.

“If only I
could,” I whispered.

Tristan pressed his
fingers to the rise of my breast, over my heart, over the stone that
connected us. “
Feel
for it. I know it’s in there.”

He leaned in and
brushed his lips across my forehead again before swooping down to
join Owen, Char, and the others below. The plans they made—following
what Mom and Rina had instructed—drifted up to my ears as I
floated in the sky, still reeling from his words. I thought I’d
felt alone before, when Mom and Rina had died and left me to lead the
Amadis, but I hadn’t known true loneliness then. I’d had
Tristan. And Dorian. Owen, my sister, my best friend, and the rest of
my team.

Now I had no one.
Because nobody else truly understood the weight I carried.

Whatever they saw,
whatever they thought they knew was lost on me. Because still, all I
could see before us was defeat and death. The true end of the world.
How much longer before Lucas opened the Gates to Hell? Before Satan
joined the Earthly realm? Not much, I knew, because there was no way
we could stop him. Not when that army of a million or more surrounded
him, while only thousands had gathered under me. Not when he had
dozens of sorcerers and countless Demons with their black magic,
while we had Owen, Charlotte, and a few dozen warlocks with a
fraction of their power and the inability to use any kind of dark
powers.

Tristan led those below
into formation, and they began their march around the mountain to the
valley. My team followed behind him, then the Amadis, then Sasha’s
super-soldiers with the rest of the Normans after them. Tristan
motioned a hand signal, and a third of the army branched off to march
to the mountain to the east of the valley, another third—which
included Tristan and the rest of my team—headed for the west
side, and the last third stayed on this mountain to the south. What
was he thinking? I soared down to Tristan’s side.

“What are you
doing?” I demanded as I fell into pace next to him.

“You know,”
he said without pause.

I did know. I just
couldn’t believe it.

“Tristan! How can
you do this?” I swept my arms around at the landscape
surrounding us. “You of all people know what a stupid maneuver
this is. Our tiny army is split up. We don’t have enough troops
or firepower to be surrounding the enemy like this. We’ll have
mountains at our backs, and nowhere to fall back for retreat. You
know more than anybody what a bad plan this is. You taught me!”

He stared straight
forward, not looking at me. “And you of all people know these
are the orders we’ve been given.”

I blew out a breath of
exasperation and threw my hands into the air.

“So you’re
just going to follow them in blind …” I trailed off,
knowing his answer.

His eyes cut sideways
at me. “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what we’re
doing.”

A multitude of emotions
slammed into me. Most of all, that deep-seated, debilitating fear.

Tristan spoke into my
mind, his voice softer. “
There’s nothing to be afraid
of,
ma lykita
. We’re doing exactly what we’re
supposed to do. Please believe that, because they’re following
me for the moment, but you’ll have to give the final order.
”

I turned around,
walking backwards, as my eyes traveled over our measly army spreading
itself thin across the mountainsides. Stupid. So incredibly stupid.
What were Mom and Rina thinking? My gaze lifted, as though I expected
to see them in the sky, even when I knew I wouldn’t. Instead, I
found a swarm of bodies soaring right for us.

Tristan! Up!

He glanced up as they
flew over us. I spun back around, and everyone stopped marching as
the figures dropped into the clearing in front of our group, one at a
time like birds landing. But these were no birds.

They were men, yet not
exactly human. They all wore black, fighting leathers on their legs,
but their torsos remained bare. Strapped across their chests and
backs were a variety of weapons—swords, machetes, daggers, and
guns. And spreading out from their backs were chestnut-colored,
feathered wings, as big as Tristan’s and mine, but not quite as
… beautiful. They certainly weren’t Angels standing in
front of us, facing our army with their wings spread wide and their
powerful muscles bulging, but they weren’t Demons, either.

Noah settled to the
ground directly in front of Tristan and me, making my breath catch.
His long, light brown hair waved over his shoulders in the breeze.
His hazel eyes were filled with a fierceness I hadn’t seen in
him before. His fists clutched two long swords, pointed downward,
toward our feet. If I hadn’t known better, I’d say he was
an avenging Angel, looking nearly as magnificent as Tristan.

But he wasn’t an
Angel. None of us were. We were only pawns.

Tristan and I both
pulled out weapons and crouched into a fighting stance. We hadn’t
even reached the valley, and the battle was about to begin.
Apparently, Lucas had sent the Summoned sons and their offspring as
his front line, not caring if he lost any of them since he had the
one son he needed. The Summoned were no longer confused, running away
and laughing at our absurd attempts to convert them. Judging by their
challenging stances, they obviously intended to fight to the death.

And the thought first
and foremost in my mind: Where did they get the wings? And why
weren’t they leathery, like the Demons’?

Tristan said I needed
to be the one to give the order for attack, but I still couldn’t
bring myself to do it. Once the fighting started, this battle
wouldn’t end until one side was extinguished, and I already
knew which side that would be. My internal war waged on—one
part of me resolved on stopping Lucas from bringing Satan to Earth,
and the other knowing that our attempt to do so would be the end of
us all anyway. How could everyone not see that, especially the
Angels?

Before I could make a
decision to order a retreat or an attack, Noah and all of his men
dropped to a knee and bowed their heads to me. For a moment, Tristan,
my team, and I simply stood there, stunned. After recovering from the
immediate shock, I opened my mind to theirs and balked at the
onslaught of loyalty.

“You come to the
losing side?” I scoffed, still unable to believe what I saw,
what I felt. Not that the hundred or so winged men before me were
enough to make a difference against Lucas’s army, but the fact
that they even bowed to me knocked the air out of my lungs.

“Good will win,”
Noah said assuredly.

I couldn’t
suppress the dark chuckle. Good? The Summoned sons who’d
chosen
to go to the Daemoni? Hardly. But a stab of guilt twanged in my soul
at this thought, because I’d known their souls had hope back
when we cut the stones from their hearts. I’d been banking on
that because it meant there would be hope for Dorian, too.

But it didn’t
make sense.

“We’re
outnumbered,” I said. “You aren’t enough to help
us.”

“We aren’t.
But they are.” Noah pointed a finger toward the black sky with
its heavy clouds that were about to let a snowstorm loose. “We
fight for them, and therefore, for you.”

I stared and rubbed my
brow, not understanding. My sense reached out for them, and my eyes
squinted as I felt their energy—all good, that of Amadis. They,
too, trusted in the beings of Heaven.

“But …
how?” I breathed. “The curse …”

“The curse has
been broken,” Noah replied matter-of-factly, his face still
tilted toward the ground. “We are now on your side, our souls
given to you and the Angels.”

My stomach turned over
on itself. “And Dorian …?”

Noah didn’t
answer. Nobody else spoke.

“Where’s
Dorian?” My question was met with more silence. “Noah,
get up! All of you, up. Please. Just tell me where Dorian is.”

Noah rose to his feet,
and the others followed in suit. He turned enough so that his back
wasn’t completely to me, but so he could point to the fiery pit
with the tip of his sword. I followed the line of sight, and my
breath caught once again.

“
Dorian!
”
I screamed.

The Daemoni and the
Demons in the valley erupted into cheers and battle cries as two men
floated above their heads—one ensconced in a fireball and the
other, looking so much like Tristan now, flying by his own power.
Together, they headed for the center of the flaming pit. I couldn’t
sense his mind signature from here, or feel his thoughts.