Jude; The Fallen (The Fallen Series, Book 2) (26 page)

Coriander turned her face upward, wet with tears. He kissed her on the forehead and squeezed them tighter. She stepped free of his hold and headed to the door, calling over her shoulder, “Let’s go, you two. I’ve got to call in a few favors to get us on the next flight out without Customs.”

“You think we’ll have issues?”

She swung around and pursed her lips. “Sword. Dog. Do the math.”

Jude glanced down at his hand. The golden sword gleamed, the surface pristine and glowing. “You may have a point. Really though, what about him?” He gestured to the dog.

“I won’t leave him behind.”

He nodded at the firmness in her tone. “I wouldn’t ask you to.”

The animal whined, thumping its tail on the floor before coming over to sniff at Jude’s thigh.

He glowered down. “Yeah, remember that. And if you even think of hiking your leg near me, I’ll neuter you myself with a coat hanger and a rusty spoon.”

The dog’s tongue dripped and shook as it panted, and Jude swore he could see a spark of the old Alex in there somewhere. His hypothesis was confirmed when the animal lifted his leg and pissed down Jude’s leg.

“Coriander!”

The happy reunion was quickly cut short by Coriander shushing everyone in the living room, putting her hand over Ashtiru’s sleeping head. She passed the child off to her mother, and Khemrhy whisked her away upstairs, sparing a heartfelt glance at Coriander and then at Jude. He smiled back at the goddess.

Lucius was the first to grab him and pull him into a giant hug. He flinched out of habit, but relaxed as he realized there was no pain.

“I still don’t think I’m a hug it out kind of guy,” he smirked.

Lucius set him back with a look of surprise. “What?”

Jude chuckled. “It doesn’t hurt, but I don’t swing that way.”

“The pain? It’s gone?” Elijah signed.

He nodded. “Gone.”

“And your wings?” Mordecai asked, his face tight.

Jude chucked off his shirt, and ignored the good-natured catcalling from Coriander, Persephone, and Teraslynn. All voices fell silent when he turned and fluffed out the golden wings. He flexed them once for good measure before turning back around. He frowned as he noticed the absence of one body.

“Where’s Dom?”

“Pool house. Don’t push it. I’ll tell him you’re back.”

“He knows,” a voice said from the back of the living room.

Jude’s head swiveled to see Domniel standing just inside the house, half-in and half-out onto the back patio. No one heard him open the French doors.

“You make it back in one piece?” Domniel asked. His voice was rough around the edges, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Yeah,” Jude said, voice catching in his throat. “With new accessories.” He gave the wings a gentle flap.

“I know. I could smell them when I opened the doors.” He lifted his nose into the air and sniffed. “I smell dog, too. And not Lige. His scent is changing.”

“Alex, er, the Anubis, came back, and he’s sort of…different,” Jude explained.

Domniel made no move to come inside the house any further, and Jude couldn’t bring himself to make his way across the floor. “I think that’s probably an understatement.”

“Maybe,” Jude laughed.

“Jude?”

“Yeah, brother?”

“Good job.” With that, he backed out and shut the doors.

Alex trotted over and barked out at the glass.

Mordecai gave Jude a grin, and said, “So…Alex, huh? That’s got to be interesting.”

“I guess we’ll see,” he answered.

“I’m sensing there will be a little awkwardness when Cori asks you to walk her ex,” Mordecai chuckled.

“Shut up, Cai.”

Elijah nudged at his deaf brother, but he continued, “Think he’ll sleep at the foot of the bed? That’s a little kinky, even for me.”

This time, Lucius and Jude spoke in unison, “Shut up, Cai!”

Mordecai’s snicker was cut off by Khemrhy’s voice drifting down from the stairs. “Jude, I thank you for returning my loved ones to me.” Her gaze fell on her daughter. “Coriander, can I see you in your office, please?”

She nodded and passed by him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you upstairs, yeah?”

“In a little while. There’s somebody I have to talk to.”

Coriander turned from the bookshelves as Khemhry walked in and shut the door behind them.

“Mother.”

“Daughter.”

“You didn’t stop him.”

“No. I did not.”

Coriander pitched forward and braced her hands on the back of her desk chair. “Why?” Coriander cried out, the sound of her heart breaking evident in the shrill despair of her voice. "How could you? How could you let him go, knowing what would happen? Why didn't you try to stop him?"

Khemrhy advanced on her, the folds of her sari whipping around her ankles in a fierce jangle. "Because," she snapped. "Because it was not my place to hold him back. Because I do not defy that which I believe. Sometimes death is an ending, and sometimes it is a beginning. It is not up to me to decide which. You should know by now that time is not measured by death. It was his time, Coriander. And you should remember that he embraced it for you."

Coriander glared back at her. “All this time I thought you were so powerful, even if I didn’t know what it meant. Was I wrong, Mother?”

“Stupid child,” the goddess hissed. “How dare you question the authority of my will? My will is His will, as it has always been. Didn’t I teach you that? Haven’t I always given you the truth, even when you didn’t want it?” Coriander’s lips trembled and the mother in her wanted to bite her tongue, but the goddess inside raged at the hubris. “You bark at me like the animal Alex has become, when instead you should be falling to your knees and thanking Him for the blessings which brought you home! Mourn Alex’s loss because you loved him, not because you think I betrayed you by not saving him.” Khemhry drew herself up and folded her hands. “I’ve kissed my granddaughter good night and I have lauded your lover for bringing you back to me. Perhaps when you’ve got your head on straight, you’ll come to me and we can have this conversation again. Until then, I’m going home.”

The goddess paraded out the front door in a jangle of clinking bracelets and the rustle of silk, her divine presence trailing behind. As she walked down the steps to the driveway, the mother held her face in her hands and sobbed.

Sunrise threatened to break over the horizon, the first rays of sunshine taking the chill off the dawn. Jude stretched his legs out in front of him, his feet scraping on the shingles of the roof. He closed his eyes and turned his face heavenward, fanning his wings out behind him with a satisfied sigh.

“I am proud of you, Jude.” The Voice spoke with affection.

“I’m a little proud of me, too.”

“You’ve come far.”

“I’m ready to keep going.”

He opened his eyes to see the sky swirl in a haze of orange and purple. Everything seemed fresh, brighter, and full of purpose. Jude’s heart sank with a guilty twinge.

“Don’t worry. He looks upon the same sunrise. Only with different eyes.”

Alex.

Jude shook his head. “I know, but I still feel like we left a man behind.” His hands curled into fists at his side. “We don’t work that way. We don’t leave anyone behind. He may not have been one of us in truth, but in a way, he was. And I know she’s upset about that.”

“She will grieve. It is the nature of love.” The Voice said with sympathy.

“I would spare her that pain if I could.”

“All you can do is love her. Love them all.”

“And what about him? Is he really Alex? Inside?”

A breeze drifted over him, slipping over his skin with comfort.

“In a sense,” The Voice said. “His humanity is gone, but his loyalty and devotion to his daughter are unshakeable. He still has a destiny ahead of him. Do not worry about his future. I hold him in My hands.”

“Does Ash understand that her father is gone? I don’t want her to grow up and hate me for trying to take his place. I don’t want her to forget him.”

“Then keep his memory alive. Love her as he would. She will understand, and one day she will praise you for it. But he will be with her in other ways.”

“The dog?”

“Yes,” The Voice answered. “He will befriend her, guide her, and protect her. The Anubis has power of his own. He will only draw his last breath when she does. Take comfort in knowing he will be with her when you cannot.”

“There’s something coming, isn’t there? We lost her necklace, and I don’t know what that means, but I can guess it’s not good. We’re not safe,” Jude said, feeling the tingle of dread at the back of his skull.

The sky darkened for an instant, then returned to its blaze of color.

“Guard your sword arm, Vengeance. My enemy seeks to usurp me, and I will need all My warriors to drive him back.”

“I am ever Your servant,” Jude said, bowing his head.

“You lived in pain for so long, My child. You denied yourself the gift of faith. Not in Me, but in yourself. Do not lose that. It will sustain you when the path is unclear.”

“Father.” The word slipped out on a choked cry.

“Faith, Jude. It is as endless as My love. Have faith.”

The presence of The Voice faded into the distance as daybreak burst across the horizon. Jude pressed a hand over his heart and thought of laughing green eyes and the tinkle of a little girl’s laughter.

Faith.