Last Rite (28 page)

Something heavy lifts from my heart as the seemingly insurmountable wall that has existed between us since Lilith crumbles to the ground. His pulse pounds with mine as I wrap my arms around his neck, settling into him, and kiss him like there’s no tomorrow. When our lips finally part, he pulls me into his lap and I press my forehead into his.

“Whatever it is, please, always remember that I love you,” I say.

We cling to each other, but I don’t dare speak, afraid of breaking whatever midnight spell has brought us back together. The world is quiet with sleep; still and seemingly unaware that, at any second, everything could end.

I lift Luc’s T-shirt over his head as he gazes down at me, unsure. My fingers trail over his serpent tattoo and across his chest, and I feel his skin pebble with goose bumps at my touch. When I reach the thick, rough scab of the burn on his ribs, I lay my palm over it and he closes his eyes and sighs. I tug off my shirt and press myself into him, feeling the burn of our skin as we melt into each other.

As I sink into him, needing to be as close as humanly possible, I’m overwhelmed by the sudden sense that this is good-bye. My heart aches and silent tears flow as I smother him with my love. He loves me back, so quietly on the outside while, on the inside, a torrent erupts.

*   *   *

My eyes open to the pale morning sun, just beginning to stream through the window, signaling the start of a new day. But the first thing I see is Luc’s lazy smile. His arms are around me and we’re snuggled into the blankets.

“Morning, beautiful. Did you know you talk in your sleep?” he says.

I panic for a second, trying to remember what I dreamed. For the first time in weeks, it wasn’t Taylor. It was Luc.

Time of death, six-thirteen.

A black hole forms in my heart as dread takes hold of it, but then the memory of last night—kissing Luc and what that lead to—creeps into my consciousness and heat washes through me as an involuntary smiles tugs at my lips.

We’re both still here.

And Luc is very,
very
alive.

I sink into him, savoring the feeling of his heat warming the cold places deep inside me that I’ve kept locked away from him for the last few months. “Did you sleep?” I ask in a voice still thick with slumber.

“Some.”

I slide up in his arms and trace a finger along the dark hollows under his eyes. He closes them and I gently kiss his eyelids, then the tip of his nose.

He heaves an epic sigh, and a contented “Mmm…” purrs up from his chest.

I smile then kiss my way slowly across his cheekbones and along the coarse stubble over his jaw, finally finding his mouth again.

I can’t stop the giddy squeal and giggle as he grabs me and rolls us so I’m pinned under him.

“You might want to be careful, or your grandfather is going to find you in a very compromising position,” he says quietly, his gaze burning through me and a wicked smile teasing his lips.

My heart thrums as Luc kisses me, pressing into me from above. I wonder how I was able to resist this for so long when I feel myself totally giving in to him, wanting nothing more than to be swept away by him and not have to think about any of the rest of it.

Luc isn’t a distraction. He’s my sanity—my escape.

My heart.

And my soul.

It nearly kills me, but I find the strength to push him away. “You need to go,” I whisper. “Grandpa will be up soon.”

He smiles again and melts my heart. I grab him and pull him close. He kisses me once more, slow and deep, then pries himself out of my grasp. I watch him intently as he sorts through our clothes, pulling his from the pile on the floor. When he’s dressed he leans over me and kisses me again, and I close my eyes and fight not to pull him back into the bed. He leans his forehead into mine. “You are killing me. I hope you know that.”

My heart lurches as my eyes snap open and stare into his, but then I see the smile in them. His lips find mine again before he stands and slips through the door, leaving me aching for him.

Not long after, my mouth starts to water as the smell of frying bacon and coffee wafts into my room. I throw on my clothes and head to the family room, where Luc is now on the couch, wrapped in Grandma’s throw, pretending to be asleep.

I sit on the edge of the couch and lean down to kiss him. His eyes slit open and a sly smile turns up his lips. “You’re blowing my cover.”

I giggle and then jump when someone clears his throat behind us. When I turn, Grandpa is peering at us from the kitchen. “If anyone’s hungry, I’ve got pancakes and bacon ready. Nothin’ like Luc’s omelets, but it’ll have to do,” Grandpa adds, giving Luc the evil eye as he swings to a sit.

My face is on fire. “We were just—”

But at that instant, I grab my head as lightning tears through my brain. “Oh, God!” I cry, unable to stop myself.

’Cause this time the image isn’t me or Luc. It’s Grandpa, lying in a heap on a green lawn, his eyes staring lifelessly into the sky.

My empty stomach heaves with the pain in my head, but there’s nothing to come up. When it settles, I bound off the couch and run to Grandpa, hugging him as tightly as I can. “I never should have come here.”

I glance wildly at Luc, and I see my own horror mirrored in his eyes. In that glance, I can tell he understands. But I can’t tell Grandpa.

“I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to ya, Frannie,” Grandpa’s sandpaper voice rumbles from his chest into my ear as I stand plastered against him.

I feel sick again, ’cause it’s
me
who has to figure out how to keep anything from happening to
him
. I peel myself away from him. “Just promise me you won’t go outside.”

He smiles down at me. “Thought your angel had things under control out there.”

I breathe deep. “Just promise.”

“Fine,” he says with an amused smile. “How ’bout those pancakes?”

I hug him for another second then back away a step.

“I’ll round up the night patrol,” Luc says with a tip of his head toward the front door.

Luc opens the door, but before he steps through he glances back to where I stand and offers me a reassuring smile. Despite my heavy heart and the dread in the pit of my stomach, I can’t help smiling back as he slips through and closes it behind him.

Grandpa turns from the stove where he’s pulling another batch of pancakes from the cast-iron skillet. “Is the plan still to head to your folks?”

“As soon as we can,” I answer.

I hear the front door click open and Luc steps through. He just stares at me for a long moment.

“What?” I finally ask.

He glances back over his shoulder into the yard. “Gabriel is gone.”

22

Raising Hell

LUC

The pancakes and bacon sit uneaten in Ed’s kitchen as we race across town to Frannie’s. The cheer of the cobalt sky and white, puffy clouds are at odds with the air of doom hanging over our group.

“Gabe wouldn’t just leave,” Frannie muses from the backseat of the Shelby.

“No. He wouldn’t.” Dread sits like a stone in the pit of my stomach.

Ed gives me a wary look from the passenger seat but remains silent.

We bump into Frannie’s driveway and I pull to the end, near the garage in back. Everything seems quiet—either a very
good
sign or a very
bad
sign.

It doesn’t take long to find out which.

I’ve barely stopped before Frannie’s shoving me out of the car and sliding my seat forward. She bounds from the car and pulls up short, staring into the backyard.

I follow her gaze … and find Maggie near the large oak tree in the corner of the yard—in Lilith’s choke hold, a knife to her throat.

“Hi, Frannie,” Lilith says. “I was hoping that was you. Shall we try this again?”

Frannie stands very still, pale as death, her eyes glued to the hand holding the knife at Maggie’s throat. Maggie wears an expression that is something altogether different. She’s straining to turn her head to look at Lilith, and her eyes are full of insatiable need. Her hand is grasping at Lilith’s thigh, desperate for even that tiny piece of her.

I step in front of Frannie, careful not to look directly at Lilith now that she’s got her siren song cranked. “Lilith, put the knife down.”

“Lilith.” Frannie’s whispers comes from behind me. When I turn, I see her expression soften, then become hungry, and she takes a step forward. Ed stands on the other side of the car, staring over the top of it, mesmerized.

“Turn it off, Lilith,” I say, reaching for Frannie. I grasp her gently by the shoulders and turn her to face me. Her eyes stay locked on Lilith, and I have to grasp her cheek to pull her face around. “Frannie. Look right here,” I say.

She presses her eyes closed and winces. “Maggie,” she whispers. She opens her eyes and looks into mine, and I can see all the nightmares behind her gaze.

“This isn’t Taylor, Frannie. Maggie will be fine. She’s not tagged for Hell.”

She winces again at the mention of Taylor, even though she was clearly already thinking about her. “But she could still kill her anyway,” she says in a strangled whisper.

She will if I can’t figure out how to stop her. And, if she does, I can’t imagine how I’ll stop Frannie from retaliating … unless I do it myself.

“Did you talk to her, lover? Tell her the plan?” Lilith calls.

Frannie starts to turn back to her, but I hold her chin. “You have a plan?” she asks.

“No,” I say, gazing deep into her eyes, showing her I’m not hiding anything. “No plan.”

“She’ll do it, Luc. She just needs a little encouragement.” Lilith presses the knife tighter against Maggie’s throat to punctuate her point.

Frannie struggles out of my grasp, desperation clear in her strained expression, and I swear I feel a rush of energy surge under my hands as she pulls away. “What will I do?”

“Take the king down.” A depraved smile curves Lilith’s mouth. “Or die trying. Either works for me.” She chuckles, a raw, wet rasp that turns into a hacking cough. “Come over here and get your little sister, Frannie. Then we can all talk about it.”

When she looks at Lilith, there’s murder in her eyes. “You grab Maggie,” she says. This time, I’m sure I don’t imagine the skitter of red and white energy dancing over her skin.

Unholy Hell.

What does this mean? What’s happening to her?

When I look back at Maggie, she’s trying to spin in Lilith’s grasp, causing the knife to graze her skin. A rivulet of blood courses a path from under her chin to the hollow of her collarbone and pools there.

I grasp Frannie’s arms gently and lean in. And I feel it, the buzz of an electric current running up my arm. “Go, Frannie,” I whisper in her ear. “Go with Ed into the house.” My lips brush her cheek as she backs away and I inhale deeply, taking in her currant and clove, needing to hold on to her in any way possible.

She looks up at me and the determination on her face scares me. “No.”

“Go. Maggie and I will be right behind you,” I say, my heart clenching at the realization that these might be my last words to Frannie—and, if so, a lie.

She stares at me for a long heartbeat, then starts to back away.

I watch her for a second then turn to Lilith. “It’s just us.”

But then, like a blur, someone shoots past my side, launching into Lilith and Maggie. Before I have time to register what’s happening, Lilith and Maggie hit the ground, Frannie on top of them, grabbing for the knife.

Lilith wrenches herself out from under Frannie as I lunge for the group. She swings the knife and it slices into my shoulder as I grasp Frannie and try to pull her away. But I see my effort is only helping Lilith gain control. I pull Maggie back from the scuffle on the ground. She blinks, out from under Lilith’s spell, then grasps me tightly around the neck.

“Ed!” I shout, and he’s there in a second, pulling Maggie to her feet and supporting her. She wraps herself around her grandfather, who looks at me with desperate eyes.

I dive back toward Frannie and Lilith where they wrestle on the ground, and I smell it clearly: ozone mingling with brimstone. Lilith rolls to a sit and takes another swipe with the knife, this time at Frannie, but I lunge toward her and kick, and the tip of the knife lodges in the heel of my boot. I give it another hard kick and the knife flies out of Lilith’s hand and skitters across the lawn to the base of a rosebush in the garden next to the garage.

“Go, Frannie!” I yell as I bound to my feet. Out of the corner of my eye I see her dart toward her family. I lunge for the knife and, when I come up with it, I turn to face Lilith, who is on her feet as well.

She waggles her fingers, encouraging me toward her. “Go ahead. Make my day.” She grins, looking pleased with herself. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

Maggie’s scream from behind me pulls my attention, and I spin to find Frannie thrown over Rhenorian’s shoulder like a rag doll. She’s clawing at his arm, trying to break free.

My heart climbs into my throat. “Rhen, stop! She can’t make you mortal! Put her down!”

He turns and fixes me in a mournful gaze. “Sadly, I’m not here on my own behalf. I’m programmed to protect the king’s interests.” He hikes Frannie on his shoulder. “And right now your girlfriend is one of His interests.”

Ed and Maggie huddle near the corner of the house.

“Ed, take Maggie and go!” I yell, sensing Lilith moving behind me but not daring to take my eyes off Rhenorian.

“Like hell!” Ed calls back, his eyes wide.

“It’s not safe for you here! Go—” Lilith jumps on my back and locks her elbow around my neck, choking off my words.

“Luc!” Frannie cries as Rhenorian turns and lumbers off with her thrashing against his back.

I plunge the knife into Lilith’s hip and throw her off as an inhuman shriek cuts through the air, then sprint to where Ed is moving to intercept Rhenorian.