Revelation (9 page)

A smile flickers, thinning, eyes measuring mine. "You're a very difficult person to find."

"You managed," I point out.

He exchanges a look with another, and the older man's plump cheeks redden with laughter. They share a quick conversation in an unknown tongue, and the chuckles spread across the group.

My fingers grip the gun tighter, squeezing in my fist as I practice self-restraint. "What do you want?" I ask. The laughter dissolves, pure arrogance left in its wake. Arrogance times seven.

"The question, Genesis—may I call you Genesis?" My jaw tightens, smarting from pressure, as I refuse to answer. "The question is," he continues, "what do
you
want?"

His face flashes in my head, a memory.

"You
wanted
to help us—to make a difference. You were desperate for a purpose. You
demanded
it." I swallow hard, unsure of the direction this conversation is heading. "But above all else, you wanted something that could never be yours."

Seth.

"Some
one
," I correct.

"You failed," he simply says. The words hang frozen in the air, suspended, my every regret confirmed aloud. "You failed
miserably
. Your selfish pursuits have cost you everything. Everyone you tried to help is gone. Everyone in your inner circle . . . gone. Your Guardian is fallen because of you. You let a demon possess you—a demon who, I should mention, is now controlling you from the outside. You were given a gift, Genesis. Great responsibility. The chance—the
opportunity
—to change the world. And now everyone around you has suffered the consequences of your actions."

"Seth only killed to protect me," I explain, chest aching, struggling to keep my voice level. The wind shifts, leaves swirling across the forest floor, the air around us thick and charged.

"Seth is not a Guardian," he reminds me. "He is no longer our concern."

My heart inches to my throat, temper flaring, pointed and defiant. "He's
my
concern, and he shouldn't be punished for what he did. He doesn't deserve to go to Hell."

A wicked, egotistical smile. "At some point in our lives, we
all
deserve Hell."

"Why don't you tell me why you're here," I demand.

"Very well. Despite our reservations, we are impressed with the level of success you've exhibited in such a short frame of time. Tell me, Ms. Green. What skills do you possess?"

"Self-defense. Combat. Knife-throwing." I wave my gun. "Firearms."

The Council members exchange looks among them.

"And you know of the centers. What it takes to kill a
Diabol
."

My body grows rigid, cautious. "Yes."

"Excellent."

My skin burns with cold as another draft blows between us, eyes connecting with the woman's icy blue. She shakes her head ever so slightly, ringlets shifting. Doubting me. A spark of biting anger flames inside. "Just tell me what you want from me."

"We hesitate. It appears you're already marked."

The tattoo stings beneath the sleeve of my sweatshirt, a reminder of the promise I made, that I would do whatever it takes. That, even now, I'll do whatever it takes. "I'd still like to hear what you have to say."

"You are not loyal to this demon, then? This
Diabol
who wishes to control you?"

"No one controls me. I'm loyal to myself. And whoever can return Seth to me," I add, the words a gamble, jeopardy on my lips as I voice them.

One of the Council members moves to speak, but the man—the one with shorter hair—lifts a hand, silencing him.

"And if we could promise that Seth would be restored to his place as your Guardian, you would consider assisting us?"

Without hesitation: "Yes. I would."

Something like surprise writes itself across his features, eyes widening. "Yet you have no idea what we plan to require of you. The potential danger. The cost."

"Look," I begin. "My whole
life
flipped upside down this year. I chased demons. I killed. I watched my friends suffer. Die. Nothing you could possibly ask of me is worse than what I've already done, and nothing I could experience is worse than what I've already seen."

An amused smile. "We shall see. At this time, we only want to know we have your word—that you're willing to help us. Further instructions will be provided at a later time."

"So that's it?" My eyes bounce from Council Member to Council Member, choked with disbelief. All of the anticipation. All of the sleepless nights, this never-ending
nothing
. . . . "So I'm stuck waiting?
Again
?"

"For everything there is a season," he says.

A forced laugh, a surge of murderous fury. "What does that even
mean
? What kind of time frame are we talking about? A few days? Weeks?
Years
?"

"Soon."

I don't know what "soon" means to them. I don't have a forever to wait. But, unless Viola comes for me, I'm without options. "Whatever. I'll be back in South Marshall within the week. You can find me there."

Quiet laughter ripples through the group. "Running to your demon?"

"It was
my
home, first," I remind them.

T
WELVE

They disappear as quickly as they arrived, vanishing within a blink. The wind pushes through trees, the naked branches swaying, bony fingers stretched skyward. I stare at nothing. At empty space. Aside from my racing pulse, the Council left no evidence of their visit at all and, if I just stand here long enough, I could even convince myself the entire assembly was imagined. That they do not exist. That this never happened.

I cram the gun into my hip holster, climb the steps leading to the deck, take one, final glance at the back yard. Deserted.

Inside, Carter sifts through stacks of papers, stopping occasionally to scratch something out, to write a note in a margin, his laptop open beside him.

"There was a fire last night. In South Marshall. The old Palms Hotel burned to the ground," he says.

"Viola?"

"Or someone connected to her. They're calling it a serial arson."

"That's convenient."

At this, he changes the subject. He's thinking about pizza for dinner, if it's all right with me. He also grabbed a few cardboard boxes from the grocery store for the move, because we shouldn't need many.

"Pizza's fine," I tell him.

He glances up at me. "You okay?"

I hesitate an answer: "Yeah."

He flips to another page in the pile. "You don't look it."

I force my eyes not to roll. "Thanks." But I know I have to tell him. And I know he's going to hate this. "It's just . . . the Council stopped by," I mutter, hoping the words will disappear between us, that they won't reach his ears, that he won't hear them.

But his eyes prick to mine, narrowing, giving his undivided attention. "What?"

"The Council decided to pay me a visit."

"
Now
?" He leaps from his seat, crossing the room in seconds, peering through glass doors at empty woods.

"They're already gone."

He faces me, accusing. "Why didn't you call for me?"

"I didn't—I wasn't in any kind of danger."

"What did they say? What do they want?"

A single, threatening word: "Me."

"
Why
?" he demands to know.

"I don't know. They wouldn't say. But if I help them, they'll make Seth my Guardian again."

His eyes harden. "And you
believe
them?"

"I
have
to believe them. I have no other choice!"

"They left you, Gee! They abandoned you! They asked for your help once, then they let whatever happened to you this summer happen! You
can't
trust them!"

Our voices elevate until we're shouting, words crawling across my skin, and again I'm stunned by how easily he slips into Seth at moments like these.

"They're more powerful than the
Diabols
! They're the ones who can give Seth back to me. They took his power. They can give it back!" Words tumble one after the other after the other, filled with wild abandon and reckless hope.

"What about Viola?"

"She doesn't have to know. I can still help her. Both of them have promised Seth. Either way, if I do what they say, I win."

Carter's eyes soften to smoke and ash, stinging with sadness. "Do you win? Really?"

"If I have Seth, then yes. I win. If I can put all of this behind me—move on with my life—then yes."

"You told two very powerful . . .
things
you'll help them. A demon and an angel council. You have no idea what they're going to ask, or what they're going to make you do." A heavy pause. "What would Seth want?"

I swallow the knot cutting my throat. "That's not fair."

"It
is
fair," he replies. "You say you're doing this for him, but I have to be honest with you, Gee. I don't think he'd want you helping them."

"It doesn't matter."

"He'd want you safe."

"Seth sacrificed
everything
for me," I remind him, world slurring behind tears hastily blinked to nothing. "What am I if I don't at least
try
to get him back?"

His shoulders stiffen, eyes holding mine. "What if they're two opposing requests? What if they're mutually exclusive?"

"Then I'll pick the one who's most likely to give him back."

"The Council," Carter confirms, nodding. "Viola is going to be pissed. Viola is
already
pissed."

"I'll figure something out."

A caustic laugh, a note of exasperation in his tone. "No. If you don't help her, she'll kill you. If you don't help the Council . . ."

"If I don't help the Council I'm passing up an opportunity to save Seth," I interrupt. "And I won't do that, Carter.  I won't."

T
HIRTEEN

Thirty miles outside the tiny, seaside town I spy the first South Marshall sign. Cruise control is set, radio playing quietly in the background. Nothing like that last night, speeding down highway, watching the rearview mirror, desperate to get out. My body reacts to the words, longing more than ever before to be home, craving a taste of salty air.

"Get ready," Carter warns as we cross the county line. I scour my wallet, removing my social security card and license, pausing to examine the girl in the photo. A girl who no longer exists. A girl who knew struggle and fighting, but never running and killing. The new license—new hair, new name, new address—hasn't arrived.