Falling (The Falling Angels Saga) (34 page)

“You have no idea what you have ruined,” he said in a shrinking voice.

“Yes, I do,” I said, relieved that I’d been able to complete the incantation. “And I know what I have saved. If you ever bother me again, the same thing will happen. I will never forget the incantation, and as long as I remember it, I will
never
be yours. Give up!” I nearly spat the words at him.

Satan was now seated on the floor of the near-empty chapel, a feeble looking creature, with the remains of Señora Marisol heaped beside him. “We could have ruled the world,” he said wistfully.

“Give up!” I repeated more loudly.

“As you wish,” he rasped.

I drifted back to earth just as a tremendous flash of light and a loud whoosh erupted in the chapel. There was a blast of hot air and a cloud of smoke, and when the smoke cleared, Satan and what was left of Señora Marisol were gone. I stood staring at the charred spot on the floor, as slowly what remained of the ring of fire surrounding me went out.

I breathed in deeply. “It’s over,” I said, releasing the words in a liberating breath. “This time for good.” The tears were coming on. I didn’t try to stop them. I was entitled to a good cry.

I looked around for Maudrina, my rock. I found her still at the front of the chapel, kneeling on the floor by the railing. She was huddled over Aunt Jaz in a protective posture. I caught her eye. “Is she all right?” I mouthed.

She looked down, checked Aunt Jaz, and then nodded. Tears were in her eyes as well.

“We did it,” I mouthed.

“
You
did it,” she mouthed back.

Just then, a ghostlike flaming hand emerged from inside the earth near where I stood. It arose out of the floor so fast I didn’t have time to move.

“Run!” cried Maudrina.

The flaming hand reached for me, its arm extending toward me as if elastic. It penetrated my chest, reaching inside me as though I were a ghost. I screamed, my insides feeling as if they were on fire.

The hand rummaged around inside me. It yanked something loose, and I cried out again as the hand departed my chest and retreated back into the earth. A black substance, gooey like tar, was clutched in its grasp.

I felt an immediate absence the moment the hand was out of me. I felt smaller, less potent—weak. I was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. I crumpled to my knees, gasping for air.

“His power,” I heard someone say in a small voice. “Satan has taken back his power. Now you are truly free.” The voice belonged to Harrison.

Satan’s power had grown slowly inside me over the past several months. Now it was gone. I’d gotten so used to it I felt like a shell of myself. It took tremendous effort just to suck in air. It was as if I were learning to breathe again—and in a sense I was.

Harrison was in the pew alongside Roxanne, who continued to hover over Guy. Guy’s eyes were still closed. His complexion was a ghastly shade of white. He seemed almost iridescent, his pale flesh glistening with sweat. He still wasn’t moving. Not a flicker, not a twitch. Even then, he was gorgeous, like a beautiful alabaster doll.

“Guy,” I called. With great effort I moved to his side. Roxanne gazed at me teary-eyed and shook her head.

“No,” I said softly. “It can’t be.”

“I’m so sorry,” Roxanne said, her own eyes awash with tears.

My tears continued to fall. They were no longer tears of triumph for my victory over Satan. They were now tears of loss over my shattered dreams.

The ground beneath us began to quake. A loud crash drew our attention to the altar where a piece of the ceiling had caved in.

“This place of evil was being held together by enchantment,” Roxanne said darkly. There was chaos in her eyes. “Satan has removed his charm. We have to get out, or we will be crushed.”

An overhead beam collapsed onto the altar, bringing down a rain of plaster dust that billowed into the air as the earth continued to tremble.

Harrison corralled Guy into his arms. “We cannot leave his body in this God-forsaken place. Let’s go,” he said in a commanding voice. He lifted Guy as if he weighed nothing and began moving toward the exit. “Come on, now!” he called. This prompted Maudrina and Aunt Jaz into motion. They got up off the floor, Aunt Jaz taking the time to smooth the wrinkles from her hideous bridesmaid’s dress before following him out.

Roxanne helped me to my feet. “We need to hurry.” Her words were tender, but her eyes were anxious. Just then, a large jolt shuddered the ground more violently.

I nodded, and with her help, began moving for the door. My legs felt as if sand bags had been tied to them. Each step took so much effort. I took them as fast as I could.

But at what price?

The words of my conversation with Guy flared in my mind.
There’s always a price to be paid for love,
Guy had said.
God never promised the cost of love would be fair.

Could the price of love be the life of the one you love?
That would be the cruelest joke ever.

On our way out of the chapel, I looked around for Matt. He was no longer there, returned to hell for sure. I hoped he understood why I hadn’t spoken to him. Matt was the cause of all this. My one-time best friend had traded my soul to Satan for his. It had taken time, but I had forgiven Matt for what he’d done to me.

We moved through the large room that had been prepared for the reception. The tenting was collapsing under the weight of concrete falling from the ceiling. Destruction lay all around us. We moved as quickly as we could. There was a sense that, at any moment, we might become the castle’s next casualty.

As we exited the castle, the beam holding up the ceiling of the entryway came crashing down, sealing off the entrance to the large room. A few more minutes and we would have been trapped inside.

Demons and Satanists were scattering down the hill. The carriages that had carried us up to the castle were gone. Huge chunks of the crumbling castle lay at the foot of the steps where the carriages once stood.

The sky was much brighter than it had been when we arrived. The rain had stopped, and the sun was struggling to break through the clouds.

“Be careful,” called Harrison as he maneuvered around the chunks of concrete and started slogging through the mud, moving down the hill with Guy’s body in his arms.

We followed him, dodging sections of the castle that had fallen to the ground. As we moved away, the quaking earth became less violent, making it easier to navigate the treacherous path. Of course, none of it was easy for me—walking, breathing… living.

When we were far enough away so that nothing could fall on us, I stopped to catch my breath. Walking was quite a feat for me, each step feeling as though I needed all my energy to complete it. Roxanne remained by my side.

“What’s the use in going on?” I said forlornly. “He’s dead. I have nothing more to live for.”

“Not quite,” whispered Roxanne.

I turned to her, my eyes gaping. “He’s not?”

She shook her head.

I wanted to have hope, but I know what I’d seen. “He wa… wasn’t moving,” I stammered. “And you—”

“I know. I thought he was,” said Roxanne. “But he’s not gone yet. As Harrison was carrying him out, I heard him call your name.”

“
My
name?” I gasped. “Are you sure?” My heart had been jolted back to life. It was as if I were the Frankenstein monster, suddenly very much alive.

Roxanne nodded, the ghost of a sad smile on her turned down lips. “We must go. We cannot be here when the authorities arrive.”

The walk to the bottom seemed much easier now. I was energized by the thought of holding Guy in my arms once again. I would nurse him back to good health.

He’s not gone
, I thought, fresh tears sparkling my eyes.
He’s not gone.

*

We reconvened at Aunt Jaz’s apartment. Guy was placed in her bed. He hadn’t spoken or even looked at me the entire ride home. I kept squeezing his hand. It was hot to the touch and lay in my hand, unresponsive, like a small dead animal.

“He’s fighting,” Roxanne said. “Just keep letting him know you’re here.”

He was obviously running a fever. His shirt and trousers were sopping wet when Harrison carried him into the house.

Harrison called a Nephilim doctor who had nursed many a demon fighter back from near-death experiences. I prayed he had one more miracle in him.

Doctor Picata arrived within the hour. He was tall, gray-haired, and strikingly handsome, as all Nephilim men are. The doctor along with Harrison and Roxanne went into the room and closed the door.

I sat alone in the living room. Maudrina and Aunt Jaz were in the kitchen putting a meal together. I decided to sit vigil in the rocker. It had been Orthon’s seat of choice. It was my way of honoring him.

After what seemed like hours, but was probably more like fifteen minutes, Maudrina entered the living room carrying a silver tray with the makings for tea. She set the tea service down on the coffee table.

“I’m going to fix you a cup,” she said. I nodded. I didn’t have the strength to tell her I didn’t want tea. All I wanted was for Guy to be all right.

She fixed a cup for each of us and brought mine over. Then she took up silent residence on the edge of the sectional.

“I owe you an apology,” I said after a while.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, screwing her face up at me.

“I used to make fun of you with Erin. We used to say you smelled like a dog. We got a kick out of it.”

“Didn’t you apologize for that already?”

“No, I didn’t,” I said. “I felt plenty guilty about it, but I never truly apologized.”

“Apology accepted,” she said quickly, as if I’d opened a wound she wanted to keep closed.

“Let me finish,” I said pointedly.

“I already accepted your apology. You don’t have to finish.”

“I need to finish, Maudrina. I need to say this.”

She eyed me for a moment, considering if she’d allow me to pick at the old wound. “Okay,” she said, relenting.

“Making fun of you made me feel special. It made me feel I was better than you. Even though I wasn’t one of the cool kids, I was better than
you
. But the truth is I wasn’t better than you. I could never be better than you. I was just as petty as those kids in the Poplarati. They ostracized me, and I ostracized you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” She seemed annoyed.

“Because I realize now, you never know when your life is going to end.”

“Don’t say that,” she blurted, and I could hear her choking up.

“It’s true. You never know, and so you need to say these things before it’s too late. Maudrina, you’re not only my best friend, but also you’re the best person I’ve ever known, and I’m a better person because of you. So this is my apology: I’ll never judge a book by its… odor again.” This brought a small smile to her lips. “I will judge each person I meet from now on by the content of their character, although I know I’ll never meet a finer person than you.” There were tears in both our eyes when I finished talking.

“Can I accept your apology now?” she choked out.

A single burst of laughter sprang from my lips. “Yes,” I said.

“Apology accepted.”

I put down my tea cup and moved to the sofa where we hugged and wept for several minutes.

We sat there together, holding each other’s hands, awaiting word on Guy’s condition. I was so tired. I wanted to close my eyes and sleep just for a few minutes, but I couldn’t. I had convinced myself that Guy’s survival depended on my staying awake, and that if I closed my eyes for even a moment, the thread that held his life force in the balance would be broken, and he would slip away. I was doing my part to keep him alive by forcing myself not to sleep no matter how tired I felt.

Several times as we sat, I heard the bedroom door open and footsteps rush out. Then the person would rush back in and the door would close again. At one point, I thought I heard Guy crying out. I tensed as I peered at Maudrina, who was staring at her hands. Perhaps it had just been my imagination.

After a while, the delicious fragrance of cooking soup spread throughout the apartment. Navy bean with bacon. My stomach began to growl, and yet I didn’t feel hungry. I knew I had to be. The sun was beginning to set, and I hadn’t eaten all day. But I was numb to feeling anything. Hunger, pain, fatigue were all foreign to me. The only feeling that was allowed was hope, hope for Guy’s survival.

I heard voices in the corridor. Harrison and the others were coming. I jumped to my feet when they entered, my eyes wide and expectant.

“Tell me,” I said in an anxious breath, my gaze bouncing from face to face, trying to read their expressions. They all appeared somber, but no one was crying. I took that as a positive sign.

Harrison turned to Doctor Picata with sad eyes. The doctor nodded and then cleared his throat.

“Mr. Matson has sustained a powerful attack. If he were mortal, he’d already be dead,” he said.

“So, he’s alive?” I asked, my heart beating faster.

“Well… Yes,” Doctor Picata said. His eyes moved to Harrison and Roxanne and then back to me. “But there’s nothing more I can do for him. I’ve tried everything I know to get the fever down, my dear. But it’s too powerful. I’ve dealt with demon fevers before, but this one is from an attack by Satan himself. I’m afraid it’s too…
sophisticated
for me.”

I looked at Harrison. “Okay. So we get another doctor, a more
sophisticated
doctor to fix him up.”

Harrison wouldn’t hold my gaze. Instead, he and the doctor looked to Roxanne. It was her turn to speak.

“There is a chance for him, Megan, a good chance. But his survival depends on you.”

“Me?” I released a derisive laugh. “If it was up to me, he’d’ve come out of that bedroom with you. If it was up to me we’d be dancing right now. You know I want him to live. I’ll do whatever I have to,” I said, my eyes appealing.

They again exchanged glances. They were freaking me out.

“Megan, if you want him to live, you’ll have to convince him to forsake both you and his life on earth, and beg the angels to allow him to return to heaven. They can heal him up there.” Roxanne was gazing at me, her eyes serious and welling with tears. “It’s his only hope of survival.”