Shattered (the Spellbound Series Book 2) (26 page)

30

             
The crying comes first. Tears pour down my face in rivulets, and they cloud my vision so much that I can hardly tell I’ve been transported to an entirely different location. I slowly come to the realization that we’ve moved. And that’s when the screaming starts. “Take me back,” I shout at my savior. “I need to save him, take me back! Please!”

              Michael’s stern voice reaches my ears just before I feel his grip on my forearm tighten. “It isn’t safe, Heather. We need to stay here.”

              Part of me is aware that I’m being irrational, but nearly every ounce of my being is crying out in pain. There has to be some way to save Nick still. I need there to be a way to save him. “Fuck off!,” I scream at Michael. “Please, at least let me go back-“

              “No. He’s gone. You have to accept it.”

              I wipe off my face, and ask, “Why would you save me, and not Nick? I could have made it out on my own-“

              “So much worry over a mortal… There are at least three billion more men where he came from. There’s only one of you. My priority was saving my daughter.”

              Fury takes precedence over grief for a split second at Michael’s words. I pull back my arm and take a swing at his face, which he does nothing to avoid. Surprisingly, it feels like I’m punching a fleshy brick wall. I don’t know how any one person can be so sturdy… but then again, Michael isn’t entirely a
person
.

              I blink away another wave of tears, and wrench my arm out of Michael’s grasp. I’m in control again, for the most part, but I’m still tempted to head back into the city. I know it’s pointless by now. I know it would probably be a suicide mission. I just wish I could have been faster, done more, made different choices. I wish I could have been strong enough to prevent all this madness from happening. I wish I had been fast enough to save Nick.

              A pair of arms wraps around me, and I nearly shrug them off before realizing that they belong to my mom. I’d like to return her embrace, but my arms are still covered in blood, and she’s wearing a white night shirt. “What happened?,” she asks.

              I clench my teeth until I’m sure I won’t start crying again, and I answer. “I tried, Mom… I tried to save him.”

              “Save who from what?”

              The ground beneath me shakes and sways inexplicably before I can answer. I look around to see that I’m on the pier where I sent everyone that I
could
save. Emma, Jenna, Rachel, and Landon stand at the end of the pier, with Jenna’s parents holding each other just a few steps away, all of them watching the New York City skyline, faintly illuminated by a red glow that intensifies gradually as we watch. Eventually the light becomes blinding, and eclipses the entire city for just a moment before expanding outward, the energy from the blast so unbelievably strong that I can feel the force of it across the river. Another tremor rocks the pier, and I grab onto a railing for support.

              “What was that?,” Landon asks in a hushed voice.

              Michael’s voice is devoid of emotion as he explains, “That was well over eight million souls being corrupted and claimed before their time.”

              Everyone turns to Michael, their faces showing everything from confusion to horror. “Eight million?,” asks Jenna’s mother. “That’s everyone in the five boroughs…”

              “Everybody but one.” I spin at the sound of Alyssa’s voice, thrilled that she made it out in time. But my relief quickly turns sour as I notice the body cradled in her arms. I limp over to Alyssa, and kneel down next to her to inspect Krystal’s languid form. It’s just as I feared; she isn’t breathing at all, and I’m assuming that Lily is to blame.

              “How did this happen?,” I choke out around the lump in my throat.

              “She got thrown into the side of a building, and I guess she hit her temple a little too hard,” Alyssa reports in a small voice. “Heather, I’m sorry…”

              I shake my head, fighting back the fresh tears threatening to fall. At this rate, I’m going to lose everyone that’s ever been important to me. I’m not going to lose Krystal too, not if I can help it. I remember Lucifer telling me angel blood could heal almost anything… it’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try.

I lift Krystal’s head a fraction, and press one of the still bleeding cuts on my forearm against her mouth. She doesn’t respond at all, but I hold her there anyway, hoping beyond hope that it’ll be enough.

              Michael puts his hand on my shoulder, and says, “There’s nothing you can do for her. I’m sorry…”

              I shake my head, and press my arm harder against Krystal’s face. “My blood is supposed to heal people, right? So I have to try.”

              “The blood of an angel can only bring people back from the brink of death, Heather. She’s already past the point of no return.”

              I lay Krystal’s head back on Alyssa’s lap, and turn to face Michael. “Why are you even here?,” I ask. “Is there something I can help you with? Or have you just come to say ‘I told you so’?”

              Michael fixes me a wounded glare, but ultimately can’t hold my gaze. “Now doesn’t seem like the appropriate time. And my purpose in coming tonight was benign.”

              “Yeah? What was it?”

              “I rescued you from falling into the pits of Hell,” Michael says simply. “You would have been irretrievable if I had arrived just a moment later.”

              “I didn’t need the help. You should have saved Nick instead.”

              “There was nothing I could have done,” Michael says patiently as his incredibly warm hand brushes my cheek. I feel his warmth spreading through me, and all my physical pain melts away as my wounds stitch together. “He wasn’t merely falling, Heather. He was being pulled.”

              “Yeah I saw… What was that about?”

              “I’m not sure… I’ve never seen anything like it. All I know for sure is that it was either save my daughter, or fail to save a complete stranger. I still feel I made the right choice.”

              “Thanks,” I mutter when Michael’s done healing me. At the very least, I won’t be limping or fighting to breathe for the next few weeks. “But we both know it isn’t my body that needs mending.”

              “How do I heal your mind?”

              “I don’t know.” I close my eyes, and try to stem the swirling thoughts as they come. Part of me fears that I’ll never feel alright again.

“I’ll leave you to your grieving, then.” Michael turns to observe the city across the river, and says, “Incidentally, it isn’t too late to accept my offer. I can still teach you everything you’ll need to ensure a successful second encounter with the other Nephilim.”

I groan a little in protest, but in truth, I’m starting to consider the offer. I agree that I need to be stronger. I can’t allow something like this to happen again, and I won’t. “How will I let you know what I decide?,” I ask.

“Pray for me, and I shall appear. No matter how far away you are, I will be listening.”

That seems a little Big Brother-y; I’m not sure I want to know exactly how hard Michael will be “listening”. But I choose not to comment, for the time being. “I’ll let you know when I make my decision.”

“Farewell, Heather.” Michael spreads his wings, and looks to the sky. “I wish you better days.”

I don’t bother with a response. I merely watch as Michael disappears in a shaft of intense white light. I’m not sure where he spends his time. Heaven, maybe. Possibly New York. He could spend his days in a mansion in Detroit for all I know. I’ll be sure to ask him the next time we meet.

I glance at Krystal once more, and wipe my blood off of her face. I was too late to save her, just like I’d been too late to save Nick, too late to save the eight million people who lost their lives because of my shortcomings. I look over at Alyssa, who’s still holding Krystal’s head in her lap, and ask, “How are you holding up?”

Alyssa shrugs. “Almost everyone I know is dead, and my girlfriend turned out to be the Antichrist. I’m doing grand. But I’m much more worried about you…”

I turn away from Alyssa. I don’t want to talk about it anymore, and she knows me well enough to keep from prying. Together, we stare at New York City, still glittering on the other side of the Hudson River, and watch as the red glow fades into nothingness.

I lost almost everything tonight. My boyfriend. My mentor. My future child. My dignity. The place I once called home. A small part of me wishes I’d also lost my life. But then, I wouldn’t be kneeling on a pier in New Jersey with the handful of people I managed to save. A small victory that can never make up for my losses.

For all these reasons and more, when Alyssa asks me, “What are we gonna do now?,” a cold chill runs through my veins. I already know exactly what my answer is, though I can’t bring myself to say the words out loud.

I’m going to get stronger in any way I can.

I’m going to track down Lily.

And when we cross paths again, I’m going to destroy her.

END OF BOOK TWO