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Authors: Paige Cuccaro

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Series, #Sherrilyn Kenyon, #Jeaniene Frost, #J.R. Ward, #urban fantasy, #Select, #entangled, #paranormal romance, #paige cuccaro, #Hellsbane, #Otherworld, #forbidden romance, #angels and demons

Hellsbane Hereafter (27 page)

BOOK: Hellsbane Hereafter
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We moved faster than the human eye could track, a blur of body parts so quick we’d become nearly invisible, only a rush of destructive wind. I had less than a heartbeat to succeed or fail—one try. I wouldn’t get a second chance.

Quicker than the beat of a hummingbird’s wing I spun toward him, his outstretched blade slicing my back. Pain jolted at the edge of my mind, but I moved so fast my brain didn’t have time to process sensation.

In the next fraction of an instant, we were chest to chest, and I pushed just enough to rock his balance. Before he could recover I lashed out with Liam’s sword, catching my father at the wrist. His hand flew from his wrist tumbling through the air, still gripping his sword, and I moved to catch it.

The meaty stump landed in my palm with a thud, and I had a split second to register the expression of genuine surprise on the fallen angel’s face before I sliced the blade of his sword through his neck.

Finally, my father’s mystified expression froze. He blinked, then slowly his head lolled back, falling from his neck. Thick mist billowed over the rim of the wound, and light as bright as the sun burst out of him, illuminating the room. I shielded my eyes as the light spread over his body, consuming him from the inside out.

All at once, the light flashed brighter before sucking back to the center like the pull of a black hole. The force of his return to the ether drew on the space around him so hard the wind of it tugged at my hair and clothes.

And then it stopped. It was over, the air settling. My power pulsed through my veins, angelic DNA humming under my skin. I was still something more than human. I could feel it.

Jukar was dead, but nothing—
nothing
—had changed. In my head I’d known it was too late to ever be normal again, but in my heart…

I looked at Jukar’s hand and sword, still real and solid in my grip. My fingers opened and it rolled from my palm, vanishing to mist before it hit the ground. I didn’t know how Jukar had managed to keep the hands and swords of all those angels he’d killed from vanishing with their bodies, and I had no desire to try to figure it out.

“This is never going to be over for me.” My voice sounded distant to my ears, my body numb.

The seraphim believed I was a traitor, and the Fallen knew I was. I was more alone than ever before, and the only thing that could change that fact was me.

I reached for Liam’s sword where I’d dropped it, but just as my fingers brushed the hilt, the building shook under my feet.
An earthquake?
In Pittsburgh?
I glanced up at the stained glass windows rattling in their frames and then to the big chandeliers swaying from the rafters.

A flash of lightning lit the room, and a clap of thunder rumbled so loud I could feel it in my chest. The walls of the chapel shook, raining dust down on the tiled floor.

“That’s not an earthquake.” I grabbed Liam’s sword and headed for the door.

Outside the sky had turned black, storm clouds rolling like an angry sea. Rain hammered the Earth, and down the hill from the church, Abram used my sword to carve a line almost the length of the lawn in the ground. At the opposite end where he’d started, something clawed its way up. Long fingered hands, nails jagged and sharp, scraped at the Earth, pulling a horned, bull-headed demon free from the abyss.

Within seconds the first was free while a dozen more made the same escape all the way down the line Abram had carved. Without the power of a Fallen to shape their bodies, the demons came out in the form the brimstone left them. Most of them looked like the devil I’d learned about in Sunday school, skin red and leathery, their feet big cloven hooves. A few were only partially deformed, stuck between the beautiful creatures they’d been and the devils they would eventually become the longer they stayed.

I stood there on the walkway between the cathedral and chapel, staring transfixed as more and more demons clawed free. Would Eli be like that? Had he been changed to a devil thing, too? Would I even recognize him? Would he know me? A mix of terror and anticipation froze the air in my lungs. I couldn’t move.

Before more than twenty demons had clawed their way out of the abyss, the seraphim began to arrive, hacking off heads, dispatching one after another back to the divine ether. But with each arriving seraphim another zombie Fallen popped in to battle. All of Abram’s zombie army had sprung into action, protecting the demons as if they were newly born from the Earth—slow, confused, and vulnerable.

Soon enough those fresh demons joined the fight, clawing at seraphim with nails like jagged glass, brimstone rolling off them in clouds of yellowish stench. Despite the pummeling rain, the air reeked of rotten eggs, and a thick blanket of putrid mist thickened along the grass, billowing up from the crack in the ground.

“You really just going to stand there and let this happen?”

I jumped at the sound of Dan’s voice, turning to see him standing beside me. I shook my head. “What?”

“Even if he comes up through that opening, he’s not going to be the same Eli that went in.” Dan stayed light on his feet, glancing behind and around him, ready for any possible attack. “You’ve got no reason to fight for the Fallen now. He’s gone. It’s time to come fight for the good guys again. We have to close the hole in the abyss.”

I looked back to the battlefield, the angels and demons little more than silhouettes in the thickening mist. Sparks lit like camera flashes each time swords collided, and thunder shook the ground. The Fallen shambled forward, fighting despite injuries, fighting under the control of Abram.


Good guys
is a subjective term, Dan,” I said, scanning the field for my half brother. He was gone. “The abyss is open because the
good guys
wanted it open. And chances are it’ll stay open until they want it closed. If you’re worried about it, talk to Michael. I’ve got actual bad guys to go after.”

I turned my back on Dan, opening my mind, reaching out to Abram.
“Where are you?”

My sixth sense felt Dan leave, and the emptiness that replaced his presence was cold and endless. Another bridge burned. I couldn’t worry about it.

Abram didn’t answer, and when I touched the pathway our minds had followed to each other before, it was dark and silent. Like he’d shut a door on his end. But Jukar had made sure I was strong enough in every way to protect the children of his children, the new species of mankind. So I was strong enough to push down any door Abram erected.

Through my half brother’s eyes I gazed down at the battlefield far below. I turned my own eyes upward, spotting the small balcony at the top of the cathedral, over five hundred feet up. I knew when I saw it, that’s where he was. He wasn’t alone.

“Go fight, Emma.”
His voice hummed through my mind.
“It’s what you were made for.”

I turned and walked down the hill toward the fray. I’d gone at least five steps before it dawned on me where I was going. I didn’t want to go toward the fighting. I wanted to get to Abram.

I’d stopped him from the public death and resurrection Jukar had planned, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still a threat. And despite whatever sin the Fallen and demons had committed, they didn’t deserve to be his slave army. They deserved the ability to make their own decision whether to fight or not.

So why the hell was I walking toward the battlefield? I tried to turn back, but my body wouldn’t obey. Abram was able to compel me, too? I was the child of a fallen angel, and that ring gave the bearer power over the dominion of the Fallen. I looked back to the fighting and realized in one horrifying instant that I wasn’t the only nephilim being compelled.

Dan swung his sword hard, aiming for Ham’s, his magister’s, neck. Ham defended, though the pain of betrayal was etched on his face. My gaze moved from them to another illorum battling his magister and another, then another. It seemed that if they came near enough to the fight, Abram’s compulsion to fight for him took hold.

I had to stop this. I had to stop Abram. But first I had to get out of range. My power swelled fast inside me, wings fluttered, and as quickly as the thought entered my mind, I stood on the overlook on Mount Washington.

It wasn’t until I opened my eyes on the cityscape below that I was sure the compulsion to join the battle was gone. The suburb of Oakland, home of the University of Pittsburgh, was far enough away I could barely make it out in the distance. But the thick storm clouds that hovered over the Cathedral helped pinpoint the spot.

The storm was stagnant over the area, only a mile or so wide, but the system towered up toward the heavens like a mythical Mount Olympus. I had to get back there, but if I didn’t move quickly enough, Abram would just use that ring to compel me again. Luckily, quick was my thing.

I flexed my fingers around the hilt of Liam’s sword, shoring my resolve. The illorum blade didn’t complete me like my own sword, but it would have to do. I opened my mind to that special part of me that was no longer human and called my power. With a quick thought, the sound of wings brushed my ears, and I stood in the pouring rain in front of a stunned Abram, some five hundred feet above the ongoing battle below.

My brother’s eyes widened as I reached out like a whip, snagging my sword from his hand. It was all the time I had before I felt the compelling urge to join the fray far below tickle through me. But without my sword, his command was weak enough I could push past it.

I spun, sensing Abram’s Fallen guard advancing on me. This high up, the wind drove cold rain against our skin like tiny spears, making it hard to breathe, hard to see. The stone floor of the balcony lay slick under our feet, but the twenty zombie Fallen were compelled to not let any of it bother them. I didn’t have that luxury. Not that I was complaining.

With a sword in each hand now, I swung my arms in a figure eight across my body, the blades spinning so fast a whirring hum reverberated in front of me. The first two Fallen went down easily enough, but three more stepped up to take their place, and they’d already learned from the others’ mistakes. They surrounded me, attacking at once. I blocked one blade, dodged the next swing, and swung back at the third.

I’d only ever used my power to teleport, leaving my sword fighting abilities to instinct, but now I called up every ounce of my strength, moving so fast the Fallen angels lost track of me.

They swung wild, aiming for the spot I’d been standing an instant before. One by one I blocked their strikes and cut them down. Each death sliced my heart. I’d been one of them, trusted, even loved. Yeah, I’d been undercover, spying on them for Michael, but they hadn’t known that. They’d welcomed me, and now, thanks to my twisted half brother, I had to kill them or let them kill me.

When the last enslaved Fallen exploded in a burst of angelic light that sucked his spirit back to the divine ether, I’d worked up a fairly insurmountable hatred for Abram. A lot of what had happened had been because of me, and a lot had been because of Abram—to make him what he was, to position him to do what Jukar wanted, what Michael wanted.

The difference between me and Abram was that I hadn’t been a willing participant in the archangel’s manipulations. I was finally ready and willing to kill the kid.

I dropped Liam’s sword and shoved my sodden hair from my eyes, noticing for the first time my soaked clothes, the wind chilling me to the bone. I shook it off, my anger keeping me warm, and stalked toward him. “Time to fulfill your destiny, Abram.”

The redheaded college kid raised his hands in surrender, backing up toward the stone railing. A weird half smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “You’re right, sis. But destiny’s a fluid thing, and it’s hard to know what the real end goal is until you reach it.” He glanced over his shoulder then back to me, his smile brightening. “The thing is, I’m not there yet.”

My brother turned and hopped onto the wide railing. I raced toward him, but he jumped off before I could get to him. The railing slammed into my gut, and I looked over the edge in time to see a demon, wings like a giant bat, swoop in and snag Abram by the shoulders. They shot upward, straight into the belly of the storm, and disappeared.

Chapter Twenty-Four

It was as if Abram had created the storm himself, and his absence ended it. The instant the demon flew him away, the rain slowed, and the thick, mountainous cloud thinned, going from black to gray to white. Around me the wind died down, but my teeth still chattered, and goose bumps covered me from head to toe under my wet clothes and hair. Below, the battle shifted. The Fallen, suddenly free of Abram’s compulsion, fought only long enough to win their escape. Some succeeded, many didn’t.

The war still raged, the seraphim unwilling to relinquish their advantage even for one battle. Demons fared worse. I watched the sprawling lawn empty, hundreds upon hundreds of demons compelled to follow Abram wherever he may have gone. They were too weak-willed to resist him. He gave the command to stop fighting and follow him and they did, even if they were in the middle of a fight and dropping their guard meant losing their heads.

I stayed in my perch on the high balcony of the cathedral, unwilling to take a side. I had friends down there—and enemies—on both sides. I wouldn’t choose between them. Slowly the yellow cloud of brimstone dispersed, drifting away to reveal the blackened Earth where Abram had carved an opening into the abyss. I blinked, squeezing my eyes tight for a moment then looking again.

It wasn’t just a line in the Earth, it was an illorum mark. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly an expert rendering. Basically he’d carved a long line with two smaller lines crossing it in an X near one end. But the symbolism was clear. Illorums were keepers of the abyss, our swords were the key. They allowed us to open the gate long enough to banish the Fallen.

And now, thanks to my perverted powers and the sword it produced, that mark was used to rip the gate to the abyss off its virtual hinges.
Shit.

“Will you close it?”

I flinched at the sound of Michael’s voice, but I managed to resist the urge to look at him suddenly standing next to me.

“Ask someone who gives a crap to close it.” I watched the few people left on the field shamble away, magisters helping their wounded illorum, seraphim ending the suffering of the few demons left behind, fatally wounded.

“But it was your sword that opened the abyss. Only your sword—only you—can close it.”

The ground was quiet, no longer bubbling with demons scrapping their way to the surface. “Is it empty?”

Michael exhaled, as though relieved to say, “Yes.”

“That fast?”

He tilted his head. “You better than most know the speed at which a demon can travel. One with the proper motivation is even faster.”

“Right. Wait. The abyss was empty. That means Eli came out, too. Did he survive the battle? Is he with Abram?” I scanned the battlefield, then farther out down the city streets, my heart racing, throat tight.

It made me sick to think of my evil little half brother ordering the once-proud, beautiful angel around like a dog. But would I rather he had been sent back to the divine ether? At least with Abram there was a chance I’d see him again. Would he look the same? Would he remember me?

Michael rolled his shoulder in a shrug. “I made no special note of any of the demons escaping their punishment. If he was in the abyss, he no longer is. Beyond that, I cannot say.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I turned back to rest my elbows on the stone railing. “Thanks for all your help.”

The Fallen had all either been sent back to the divine ether or escaped the instant they could. I wasn’t sure about the gibborim. I doubted Abram had the power to control them without my sword to boost his strength.

Now that Jukar was gone, had the swords he’d given them, made from a piece of his spirit, vanished with him? Who knew? I didn’t really care. I didn’t care about any of it anymore. It wasn’t my fight anymore. I was done risking my neck to make a difference. I was done risking the people I loved. I’d sacrificed enough.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” I stared at the dark opening to the abyss. The ground looked charred, like the heat from hell itself had scorched the dirt and grass. “You wanted Abram to open the abyss. You wanted everyone trapped in there to escape so you could kill them once and for all.”

“It was one scenario. Yes.” He met my eyes without blinking, totally unapologetic. “Had you done as you were told and ended the boy before he opened the abyss, those trapped there would be trapped there still.”

I looked at him now. “So this is my fault?”

His gaze slowly swung to mine. “It was your choice. If you’d killed the boy, the world would’ve seen him rise from the dead and his testimony would’ve endangered humanity. Instead you protected him, and he opened the abyss, spilling Hell’s dominion over the face of the Earth, endangering humanity.” He looked away. “We were prepared for either possibility.”

“Right. Damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t.” I stared at the blackened Earth again. “If the abyss is empty, there’s no point in closing it. But we should do something about the gaping hole.”

“There is no hole. At least not on this plane,” he said. “Your nature allows you to see the burnt Earth and the yawning abyss within. Humans have no knowledge of its existence. They will pass over it without injury.”

“Oh.” I shrugged. “Then what difference does it make if it’s opened or closed?”

“All the difference in the world.” Michael turned to face me. “While it’s open, no Fallen can be banished. Every battle will end in their return to the divine ether. No hope for redemption.”

I snorted, bitter. “Yeah, cause that ever really existed.”

“The possibility existed, Emma. A request for forgiveness was simply never made.”

I didn’t argue with him. I was tired of arguing. I knew Eli had prayed for forgiveness, for understanding. Michael and the others just couldn’t get past the fact that Eli wouldn’t apologize for loving me, for continuing to love me, all the way to the end.

My throat tightened, and my heart squeezed in my chest. I took a deep breath, refusing to shed a tear in front of the smug archangel. “Someday one of them will jump through all your twisted hoops and ask in just the right way. Then you’ll have no choice but to take him back.”

“I pray you are right.” He tipped his chin toward the gapping black hole below. “But that will never happen if the abyss remains open.”

“Fine. Then I’ll close it.” I straightened. “What do I have to do?”

“Simply pierce the opening with your sword and twist,” Michael said.

“Easy. Perfect.” I turned to leave.

“But, Emma.” Michael stopped me. “You must understand. By sealing the abyss, you condemn every Fallen banished by an illorum to an eternity suffering in the abyss. I assure you the pain is indescribable and unrelenting. It is truly the Hell humans speak of. They will suffer an eternity of torture that can only be erased from mind and spirit by true repentance. A simple act, but one which by their very nature no Fallen can fathom. Their selfishness blinds them, corrupts their thoughts, and drives them to commit unthinkable acts. By closing the abyss you ensure countless demons will continue to be made and released upon the world. Dark, twisted spirits serving their defiant, narcissistic masters, tempting and tormenting human souls, bent upon revenge unending.”

My fingers fisted against the fat stone railing, jaw tightening. “So nothing changes. After everything we’ve been through, all the people who have sacrificed and died, it was all for nothing.”

He gave me a single nod. “Only if you close the abyss. The decision is yours to make when you see fit. I will leave you to contemplate the options.”

He didn’t say another word, didn’t even say goodbye, though I knew when he left. I stayed, staring down at the open abyss for hours, thinking. If I left it open, then I would deny the Fallen, those who were already shunned by Heaven and those who had yet to fall, even the chance of redemption. How could I do that? It seemed so unfair. But closing it meant the last two years of my life, everything I’d gone through, everyone I’d lost was all in vain, since there was almost no chance, literally in Hell, of any Fallen asking for redemption. I wasn’t sure I could live with that.

I didn’t know what to do, and by the time the sun had set and night had come, I still hadn’t made up my mind. So I went home.

Deafening silence filled my Gram’s house. For a week, not a single demon showed up on my doorstep, and not even one Fallen popped into my bedroom. Not once did I wake up in the middle of the night to see a seraph hovering outside my window or look into the backyard to see a flock of them perched in the trees. The house was utterly free of angels and demons, and the accompanying silence was maddening.

Not that I missed them or the life-and-death battles they brought with them. But I did miss Eli. I missed the possibility of a chance meeting, of seeing him with other demons, of knowing he was okay, knowing he was alive. I couldn’t breathe when I thought of him, and too many times, missing him was almost more than I could stand.

Night after night I called my sword, laying the unearthly sharp blade on the pillow beside me. My mind raced for hours and hours, trying to plan how to use the weapon to end my existence when nothing else on Earth could. If I’d figured out a guaranteed way, would I do it? I didn’t know, but I was desperate for a way to end the pain Eli’s absence left in my soul.

By the end of the third week I’d grown used to the pain, almost gone numb to it. Thanks to Sadie’s understanding, I was imitating a functioning human being almost perfectly. I booked clients, did a few radio spots, and even attended a conference. I walked in a dim haze most of the time, detached as much as I could from the constant ache in my heart. No one except Sadie seemed to notice.

I told her Eli and I broke up. I couldn’t tell her the truth. There was no body, there’d be no funeral. It was easier this way. She understood better than anyone, having just gone through her own breakup with Thes. I’d managed to keep the cold hard truth about Thes from Sadie. Although telling her I’d heard he was married as an explanation for his sudden disappearance was only slightly less shocking, but much easier to believe. Luckily they hadn’t gotten too close.

At least business was good. For the third day in a row I closed the shop, still taking appointments after Sadie had finished her last cut for the day. I kept busy enough to go most of the day without staring at the corner as tears streaked down my face. But the nights…the nights were hard.

I turned the deadbolt on the shop and headed for my Jeep. I hadn’t used my angelic teleportation powers since the day of the battle. The abyss was still open. I couldn’t make up my mind what to do about it. I had trouble just getting through the day.

The evenings were getting cooler, but tonight was warm enough I drove with the windows down, wind rustling through my hair and music blasting through the crappy stereo system.

“Are you ever going to trade this POS Jeep in for a real car?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin then hurried to steer back into my own lane. “Tommy.
Jesus.

“Nope. Just me.” He stretched out in the passenger seat, arms folded over his chest. “What are you doing, Em?” I glanced at him then back to the road. “Um…driving?”

“Duh… No. I mean what are you doing about the ring?”

“What ring?”

“The Ring of Solomon,” he said it as if it were the only ring in the world. “You gotta get it back.”

I snorted. “No. I don’t.”

“But you’re supposed to have it,” he said.

That made me stare at him for a dangerous few seconds. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “I mean, you’re the only one who can keep it safe. Keep it out of the wrong hands. It’s your responsibility.”

I shook my head, trying not to laugh right in his ghostly face. “Wrong. I’m responsible for my taxes, and that’s it. I’m done with all that supernatural crap. If the ring doesn’t end up killing the little idiot and he starts hurting people with it, then maybe I’ll lend a hand. But I’m done leading the charge, putting my life on hold, and sacrificing the people I love.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He cringed and reached out to squeeze my shoulder even though I wouldn’t feel it. “Heard about Eli. Sucks. Sorry.”

A sharp stab of pain jolted through my chest, and I glanced at him. “Thanks.”

“No, really. I’m sorry about giving you such a hard time about him. If it helps, I know he really loved you. I don’t know how, but I think you guys were…I don’t know, soul mates. You know? Like, meant for each other. Weird since there was basically no way in hell—literally it turns out—you two could ever end up together.” He leaned forward, grabbing for the window crank. However, being a ghost, he couldn’t grasp it and finally gave up.

“This is you helping?” I reached over the ghost and rolled the window down.

“Thanks. Yeah. I’ll shut up now.” He leaned his head out, doing his best impression of a blond poodle.

I shook my head, and then a thought occurred to me. “Tommy, do you know where he is? I mean, do you know if he survived the battle?”

The ghost shrugged. “Don’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention. This conversing with the living thing ain’t easy, you know? I gotta work up a lot of juice to punch through and still make sense. I am making sense, aren’t I?”

He sounded genuinely concerned. I rolled a shoulder. “Mostly. So, um, if you wanted to, could you find him?”

“Doubt it,” he said. “The only reason I could still find you was because I thought to look for an angel spirit instead of a human soul. Demons are totally off my radar.”

BOOK: Hellsbane Hereafter
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