Kingdom Come (22 page)

“Kerrigan. Come.”

I planted my feet firmly in place.
I couldn’t. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
Maybe if I repeated it enough, it would become true. Desperate, I looked up at Nate, who was staring straight ahead. “Please, Nate.” My voice cracked at the end of his name. His lower lip trembled ever-so-slightly, but he remained silent. “Say something. Please. Please!”

The guard behind us shoved me, and I stumbled forward. When I straightened, a tear slipped from my eye. Then another, and another. I didn’t bother to try and stop them; I held my head high and allowed them to fall. Once I reached Bennett, I held his gaze with as much disdain as I could muster. I wanted him to
feel
how much I hated him. How much he disgusted me.

He merely stepped aside and gestured to the overlook’s railing. “I am a man of my word,” he said. “See for yourself.”

I hurried forward to see what he was talking about. Bile rose in my throat the second Ethan and Danny came into view below, and I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from actually vomiting. Each of them had a guard holding his arms behind his back, but their faces…
oh my God.

Ethan was broken. Literally. His face was covered in even more deep purple bruises, one eye was swollen, and blood trickled from his nose. Danny had clearly taken a few hits himself, but Ethan . . .

My chest ached as I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

The words echoed throughout the large room. Ethan’s knees buckled, and his eyes locked on mine. Even from this distance, the resolve in his gaze was visible. A haggard sob escaped me, and I leaned onto the balcony to hold myself up.  If only I had done something,
anything
. I could have stopped this somehow. If we had walked faster, if we hadn’t gotten sick early on, if we hadn’t slept so damn much . . .

God, why?

Bennett clapped his hands once, and immediately, my tears dried as fury consumed me. I whirled around, and he stared back at me with a twinkle in his eyes. It never ceased to amaze me, how he took such pleasure in someone else’s pain, namely mine. He enjoyed torturing me, toying with my emotions.

I wished I could put the bullet in him myself. I had no right to decide whether or not another man lived, but damn it, I could take out his arm without a hint of guilt.

As if reading my thoughts, he shook his head with a sneaky smile. He pointed to the side of the podium opposite his, and I crossed the short distance to my assigned place. He faced the guards now stretched in a line before us.

“We’ve gathered for quite the occasion, gentlemen,” he announced.

A few of the guards smiled, though most remained stone-faced.
You can still stop this!
I wanted to scream. One bullet. All it took was one split second of courage, and it would all be over.

No one moved. But neither did I. I was just as guilty as the rest of them.

Bennett placed the box on top of the podium, and reached into his pocket to produce a tiny key. He slid it into the lock, and the box popped open with a
click
. Slowly, reverently, he raised the lid. Inside rested a rolled-up piece of parchment, closed by a slender golden seal.

My heart raced. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes upon. The rest of the room, the guards, Bennett, even Ethan and Danny faded away as minutes passed. The scroll practically glowed in its radiance, and I reached out, desperate to brush my fingertips across the source of such beauty. The moment my skin touched the parchment, electricity surged through me, and I snatched my hand back. Breathing heavily, I looked at Bennett, who actually appeared to be . . . proud.

“You feel it now, don’t you?” he asked in a low voice. “The power.”

I did, and I hated it. It felt dark. Evil.

He gazed at me before reaching into his suit jacket. My eyes widened as he pulled out a dagger. A
dagger.
It was long and slender, with an intricately designed handle. Any time I’d thought I’d been terrified was nothing compared to now. The look on Bennett’s face was one of awe as he admired the blade, which gleamed beneath the chandelier. I took a step back, and hit the overlook’s railing.

“This belonged to our uncle. When I was nine, he gave it to me specifically for this occasion.” His gaze shifted to me. “Give me your hand.”

I shook my head rapidly. “You’re insane.”

His face fell into a scowl. He grabbed my wrist and dragged me back to the podium. No matter how hard I struggled, his grip on me didn’t let up for a second. “You don’t have to do this,” I blurted out. “Please. For the love of God, I’m your
sister
!”

He held the dagger in front of my face and lifted my hand. “I
am
God.”

The blade sliced across my palm. I screamed, but he didn’t so much as flinch as he held my hand above the scroll. Stunned silent, I watched my blood drip onto the parchment. Once he was satisfied, he finally released my wrist. I cradled my hand protectively as he slid the dagger across his own palm without hesitation, and allowed his blood to pool on top of mine. Once it all combined, the scroll began to glow a golden yellow. The lights on the chandelier above flickered, and Bennett grinned like a kid on Christmas morning.

Unable to contain it any longer, I turned and puked over the railing. My stomach churned and clenched, but there was nothing left to expel. I squeezed my eyes closed and rested my head against the cool rail, praying to whoever would listen that I would wake up from this nightmare. Things like this didn’t happen—they just
didn’t.

My thoughts drifted to my parents, to my sister, to all those killed in the storms— innocents who were victims of my own flesh and blood. I thought of Dr. Fowler, of Susan, of Haven—people who’d died in their quests to end this war on humanity. Their deaths were going to be in vain. And with Bennett in charge of death itself, those numbers would only grow in the coming days, beginning with Danny. Then Ethan. Then me.

“And now,” Bennett said, bringing me back to the moment. “It’s almost time.”

I straightened and took in a deep, cleansing breath. My heart pounded mercilessly, causing the blood to rush from my head, but I couldn’t let that hinder me now. Nobody was coming to save us. If anyone was going to stop this, it had to be me.

Bennett motioned for Nate to step forward. “You. Come here and restrain her.” He glanced at me. “Enjoy the show.”

Nate hesitated, but moved until he stood behind me. I tensed as he gripped my bare arms, pinning them to my sides. His hands were frigid and sweaty, making me shiver. 

Keep your feet ready. Eyes open. Mind clear.
My gaze fell on Bennett. I searched for any opportunity, any weakness of his I could attack, but found nothing. He held the scroll tightly in his hands, staring down at it with the utmost adoration. I thought back to what I’d read in the Andreas family’s history book. The scroll had to be opened, or . . . well, Death would be pissed and wreak havoc on us all. So, destroying it was out of the question. But only one of us could open it. Only one of us could be the master of death. And with Nate’s fingers clenched around my arms, the odds weren’t exactly in my favor.

Nate’s breath was hot on my skin as he leaned down and whispered, “Be ready. Any second now.” Then, his grip on my arms loosened.

Freedom.
  

Bennett’s shoulders rose and fell as he inhaled deeply. His fingers twitched, and right as they moved to the golden seal, I lunged forward and snatched the scroll from his hands. I ripped the seal, and a loud
crack
sounded just before the lights extinguished completely. Power surged through me as the scroll, now heavy as a brick, fell to my feet.

Silence settled over us.

One . . .

Two . . .

Three . . .

BOOM.

Chapter 21

Heat. The scent of burning sulfur. Screams.

My mind told me I should be afraid, but I wasn’t.

I belonged there.

My eyes fluttered open, but I found nothing but darkness. Thick smoke lingered in the air, and I coughed as I struggled to stand. When I opened the scroll, an explosion had knocked me clean off my feet. Judging by the silence permeating the room, I wasn’t the only one.

Slowly, my vision adjusted to the darkness, but it was still impossible to see. I felt around, trying to figure out just where I was as I stood on shaky legs. My hand brushed across a rail, and I followed it until I almost stumbled down the staircase.
Okay. Stopping there.
I made my way in the opposite direction, walking across the overlook. My head ached, and my hand still stung where it’d been slashed, but other than that, I felt fine. After what happened, shouldn’t I feel
something
?

The room lightened little-by-little. I stared at the floor below, hoping to get a glimpse of Ethan or Danny to make sure they were okay. I wasn’t sure how they could survive a blow like that. Instead of seeing them, however, a different figure became prominent in the center of the room as the haze diminished. In a black breastplate, black leggings, and intricate helmet, he was easy to recognize. His head was lifted toward the overlook, and even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I was sure he was watching me, as well.

Bennett coughed behind me, and there was shuffling as he pulled himself to his feet. “What’s going on?” he asked through a cough. “What happened?” I turned to face him, and once our eyes met, his face contorted in anger. “What the fuck
did you do?”

“I REQUEST THE PRESENCE OF MY SUMMONER.”

Bennett and I froze at the booming voice echoing around us. My heart skipped a beat, and I looked back to the floor below. A movement at the side of the room caught my eye as Danny stood, pulling a haggard-looking Ethan up with him. Relief flooded over me, and I shot to the stairs, taking them two at a time as I ran toward Ethan. It’d been too long—way too long— since I’d been able to wrap my arms around him.

I tripped over the final step, but a scruffy-jawed, brown-eyed boy caught my fall. His face was a mess, and his hold was weak, but he was alive and smiling and absolutely perfect.

He took my head in his heads, leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine. I grasped onto his arms and closed my eyes, relishing in the way I felt so utterly at peace in his presence. My soul . . . it felt complete. 

“I request the presence of my summoner,” the soldier repeated, “and I am not a patient man.”

Reluctantly, I released Ethan and backed away. The soldier still stood in the center of the foyer, with his gloved hands clasped in front of him. It was strange, but for some reason, I didn’t want to do wrong by him. It was as though something deep inside had a weird connection to this . . . whatever he was.

I took a tentative step forward and said, “I—I summoned you, sir.”

He still didn’t move, so I took that as a cue to move my butt across the room. The closer I came to him, the more my panic subsided. Being near him felt as natural as breathing.
That
scared me. I stopped in front of him, and it was only then that he shifted just enough for me to notice.

And then, he knelt.

He
knelt
before
me
.

“My mistress,” he said, “I bow to you, and you alone.”

My mouth fell open. I knew what the prophecy said. I knew what opening the seal meant. But nothing—
nothing—
could have prepared me for this. I was the freakin’ Master—or Mistress—of death.
Son of a mother effer.

“What have you done?” Bennett screamed from the overlook.

What
had
I done?

The soldier’s head snapped up. “Silence!” His armor clamored as he stood. “My lady, the prophecy of your ancestors states that, upon my summoning, I shall reign on this earth for three days. I may take those of my choosing back to my domain. Only those outside your realm of protection, of course. I must ask you: does this privilege still stand?”

My mouth opened, then closed, as I attempted to form words. This creature, man, whatever . . . he was under my control? He was asking
me
what he could or couldn’t do? He was freakin’
Death
. And he was standing before me, asking for permission.

My head felt like it was about to explode, yet somehow, I found my voice again. “You really have to do as I say?” I asked.

The soldier nodded once, and my mind whirled. Surely everyone in the room could hear my heart pounding. Words finally materialized in my brain.

“Then I say go.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Go, my lady?”

“Go,” I repeated more firmly. I wasn’t sure where the strength came from, but it increased with each step toward him. The closer we were to one another, the more that strength grew. Part of me was terrified. Something deep within me craved even more.

 “Go back to where you came from. And take no one with you,” I rushed to add. “This world . . . there’s still hope for it. But it can only succeed if there are actually people still
left
here. It deserves a chance.
We
deserve a chance—even the worst of us.” 

The soldier reached out, and when he grabbed my hand, a current surged through my veins. I inhaled sharply as he said, “Your faith in your kind is nothing short of astounding. You are part of a volatile group of beings, my lady, and I’m unsure of your reasoning. But very well.”

He released my hand and held out his own, and a thick silver ring appeared in his palm. “Take this.” When I hesitated, he added, “It is an offering of my submission, and a declaration of your power over not only me, but death itself. It is yours for the taking.”

I shook my head. “But don’t you understand? I don’t want your—”

“Take it,” he insisted. “With this ring, I am at your mercy. I come when you call. I do as you say.”

I stared at him, then looked at Ethan, who watched with rapt attention. He nodded, a solemn expression on his face. Danny was wide-eyed, but when my gaze flickered to him, he nodded, as well. I closed my eyes. I’d seen crazy things over the previous weeks, things I never could have imagined. Yet here I stood, with the soldier of death submitting to me. And something told me he wasn’t exactly one to argue with.