Last Rite (3 page)

Gabe puts the plane down on a narrow runway in the middle of nowhere, and we taxi to a stop near what looks like a large metal shed. He opens the hatch and I’m slapped in the face with hot, humid air. I tread down the stairs into a puddle and can almost see steam rising off the wet pavement at my feet. Gabe pulls my bag from the floor and we jog across the narrow runway to a black Jeep Wrangler parked there. He throws my bag in back and I notice there’s another duffel and a few Target bags in the back already. A set of keys dangles from the ignition. We climb in, Gabe driving, Luc in the passenger seat, and me in back.

“What’s all this stuff?” I ask, peering over the back of my seat.

“Luc needs some clothes, since we left without his things. The rest are just provisions.”

“Any bandaging stuff in those provisions?”

Luc shoots me a glance over his shoulder as Gabe answers. “Afraid not.”

“Can we stop for some?” I say, looking around at our surroundings as we pull away.

Gabe glances over his shoulder at me, and I know from the look on his face that the answer is no.

There’s not much to see. No people, no buildings, no cars. Nothing. I start to get a little nervous about what kind of “provisions” we need and why. “What is this place?”

“The safest place I could think of,” Gabe answers without turning to look at me.

We bounce over sandy potholes on our way to a poorly maintained road.

I look back at him, starting to panic a little. “Please tell me there are flush toilets wherever we’re going.”

He must hear it in my voice, ’cause he smiles at me in the rearview mirror. “There are all the creature comforts.”

We drive for what feels like forever and everything looks the same. Finally, I start to see signs for Miami, and little by little, we start passing more cars and eventually reach civilization.

When we stop for gas, I see an old pay phone on the corner.

“Can I call home?” I ask as Gabe steps out of the Jeep.

“Not until I know it’s safe.”

I see the apology in his eyes, but it doesn’t help. I want to talk to Mom—tell her I’m okay.

And Riley.

Cold emptiness folds itself around me as I think of her. Taylor called Riley our accidental friend. Accused me of taking in strays. But Riley was the best friend anyone could have ever asked for. I wish I could have seen her before we left … to explain. But what would I have said? I hadn’t seen her or Trevor since Taylor’s funeral. Couldn’t. It hurt too much knowing what I did to them. I took away Riley’s best friend and Trevor’s sister when I got Taylor killed.

My throat tightens and I slump deeper into my seat. ’Cause I know that pain too well. I lost Matt. Twice.

We pull out of the gas station back onto the road and a big guy on a Harley follows us. Gabe spends more time looking into the rearview mirror than out the windshield until Harley Guy turns off on a side road. When he does, Gabe visibly relaxes and flips a U-turn. We start heading in the other direction like a bat out of hell.

We drive silently for another hour over bridges and flat, sandy islands, and I sneak peeks at Luc when he’s not looking, wondering what he’s thinking.

*   *   *

It’s late afternoon when we finally leave the highway. We weave our way past dark houses toward the water and finally pull up to a cottage on the beach. Gabe parks the Jeep next to the tiny gray-shingled house, and we walk around to the ocean side of the cottage, which, apparently, is the front. We climb the three stairs to the front porch, and Gabe unlocks the door and throws it open. I stand on the porch for a minute watching the gentle waves crest and roll lazily onto the golden sand. Gabe steps through the door and, as I follow him into my new home, it hits me.

This is real.

I can’t go back.

Marc and Rhen are out there, looking for us. And so is Lilith.

At the thought of Lilith, overwhelming sadness bubbles up, and I dart a look at Luc where he stands in the window, staring out at the lapping waves. ’Cause it still hurts.

I know what Lilith is. A succubus.
Queen
of the succubi, apparently. I also know what she’s capable of. I’ve felt it firsthand. So, technically, what happened wasn’t his fault. She seduced him to get to me. If I’m honest with myself, that makes it
my
fault. But I can’t stop thinking the whole series of events that lead to Taylor dying in my arms started when Luc slept with Lilith. As much as I know it’s not rational—or fair—I can’t help wondering if part of him knew what was going on. And wanted it.

Instantly, I’m buried in guilt. Was I any better? When Luc betrayed me, I turned to Gabe. I wanted to lose myself in him—to forget everything and just live in his peace. And I almost took it too far. If he hadn’t found the strength to make me stop, I would have taken everything he had, including his wings.

At the memory of Gabe’s body against mine, my face twists into an involuntary cringe. I’ve let everyone down: my friends, my family …

I feel my legs start to shake dangerously as I think of Matt, and lower myself into a heavy wooden kitchen chair. I let him down most of all.

He fell ’cause of me. How was I so stupid to think he could have a life? Instead of a life, he got eternity in Hell.

My stomach knots and I prop my spinning head in my hand. I lay my ID on the mismatched table next to Luc’s and read the names again, then look up at him as he stands in the window, raking his hand through his tousled black mop of hair.

I close my eyes and drop my face into my hands, focusing on the rhythmic waves breaking on the shore outside the window.

“So, are you going to be okay here?” Gabe says from the couch.

I open my eyes and really look around for the first time. The cottage is small: basically an open, airy living room–kitchen area with two bedrooms along the left side and a bathroom in between. The walls and curtains are done in shades of blue, to make you think of the ocean I guess, and the floor is well-worn hardwood. Scattered around the room are prints of sailboats and serene stretches of beach, and under them are a navy blue couch and armchair. It’s cheerful, which, at the moment, makes me feel worse.

I smile, but it feels as bogus as my new ID. “We’ll be okay, Gabe. It’s perfect. Thanks.”

Gabe doesn’t buy it. He pulls himself off the couch and his eyes search mine. The golden light of the waning sun glints off his platinum waves, making him look like the angel he is. Something inside me stirs, tugs at my core, and makes me want to go to him, to feel his arms around me. I look away so he won’t see it in my eyes.

There’s a long minute of silence before Gabe says, “I’ll run out and get you something to eat.” He sounds weary, and I know everything that’s led up to us coming here has worn him down.

I lift my eyes back to his and hope he can see the apology in them. “’Kay.”

When the door closes behind Gabe, Luc finally turns from the window and stares me down, his eyes hard obsidian.

I want to go to him—to tell him everything’s going to be all right. But I’m done lying—to myself—to him. I love him. I know that by the way my heart breaks every time I look at him. The real proof, though, is in his transformation. He’s human again. I’m the only one who could do that to him—make him mortal just by wanting him, by loving him.

After everything, I’m not sure love is enough.

He turns back to the window, bracing his hand on the frame, his forehead against the glass. I sit in silence with my head in my hands, fingers twisted into my wild hair, and stare at the floor between my feet.

My heart feels like a trapped bird, flapping wildly against the cage of my ribs, and I can totally relate. All of a sudden, I feel claustrophobic. I need to get out of here.

I bolt off the chair and out the door. I know Luc is watching me, maybe even following me, as I leap off the porch and run full speed down the beach, but I don’t turn around. I hit the edge of the water at a sprint and the surf splashes up all around me as I careen down the beach. I’m soaked by the time I stop running and flop into the warm sand, sucking wind.

“Feel better?”

I expect Luc’s voice. Or maybe even Gabe’s. But the voice is female. I pull my head out of my hands and look up.

Then do a double take.

’Cause the girl standing on the beach in front of me looks so much like my friend Riley—tall with fair skin and long brown hair pulled into a ponytail, with floppy bangs that hang down one side of her pretty face. And curvy in her pink bikini top and cutoffs in that way that turns boys’ heads.

The girl’s chocolate-brown eyes gaze down at me, concerned. “You okay?”

I nod and pull myself to my feet, not even bothering to try to brush the sand from my soaking self. “Yeah…” Glancing back toward the cottage, I see Luc silhouetted in the window, watching.

The girl tugs on the leash in her hand as her dog, a big, wet golden retriever, strains to get closer to me. “I’m Faith,” she says. “And this is Jasper,” she adds with another tug of the leash. “We live right there.” She points to the cottage next door, about thirty feet up the beach from ours.

“I’m Fr—um…” I hesitate, trying to remember what that stupid license said. “I’m Colby,” I finish and nod toward our cottage. “We’re neighbors.”

Jasper finally gives up on getting to me and starts to pull Faith back toward home. I follow and we make our way up the beach.

She shoots a look toward our cottage and her mouth drops open, literally. “Whoa.”

I look back to where Gabe is now standing on the porch, grocery bags in hand, tight white T-shirt over faded jeans, bare feet and windblown locks of platinum hair in his tanned face. A beach god.

“That’s Gabe,” I say, then instantly realize I don’t know if he’s supposed to have an alias too.

Her eyebrows raise hopefully. “Is he like … your boyfriend or something?”

I smile despite myself. “No.”

She tucks a stray strand of escaped hair behind her ear for a better view. “Brother?”

“Friend,” I say. “He’s kind of living with us for now, I guess.”

She turns her eyes to me. “Us?”

“Yeah,” I say just as Luc steps through the door onto the porch, as dark as Gabe is light. “Us,” I say, nodding toward the cottage.

She glances back toward the house and her eyes bulge. “You must have been a very good girl to deserve all that hotness.” She looks at me in awe, but there’s a lascivious gleam in her eye that instantly reminds me of Taylor. I think for a second how strange it is that this girl is like my two best friends rolled into one—Taylor inside Riley’s body—and it makes my heart ache to think of everything I left behind.

I pick up my pace before I can go too far down the tracks of that train of thought. Jasper yanks his leash, nearly toppling Faith. She gives the leash a tug, adjusting the strap of her bikini with her free hand.

“Cut the crap, Jasper. Don’t embarrass me in front of the hot boys,” she mutters. “Or …
men
? How old is Gabe?”

Loaded question. “Um … we’re all eighteen,” I say, after thinking about the dates on Luc’s and my driver’s licenses.

She nods, satisfied.

Luc and Gabe watch us intently as Faith, Jasper, and I pad through the sand up the gradual rise away from the water. Faith slows as we near the porch, holding Jasper back, and Gabe is already on the beach, heading toward us.

“So, Gabe,” I say when he reaches us, “this is Faith. She lives next door.”

“Hi Faith. It’s been a while.” He crouches to rub Jasper’s ears. “And, who’s this?”

“Jasper,” Faith says, more breathless than she should be from just the walk over.

But I’m still trying to figure out what Gabe just said.

Luc strides down the stairs.

“Um…” I say, still frowning at Gabe. “This is…”

“Damon,” he finishes. “It’s a pleasure.” He holds out his hand.

Gabe stands as Faith shakes Luc’s hand, and, in the awkward silence, I’d almost swear I see him check Faith out. Which makes me think of Matt with Lilith.

Cold suspicion stabs through me like an icicle. My heart pounds in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I climb the stairs onto the porch and knock half a beach out of my hair and off my clothes. “So, I guess I’ll see you later,” I say, sorry now that I brought this girl over.

“Oh. Yeah … sure. Okay,” Faith says with a glance at Gabe.

“Come on, Gabe,” I say, my hand on the doorknob.

He flashes a glance in my direction before turning back to Faith. “I’m right behind you,” he replies, clearly waving us off.

I give Luc a wary look, then head into the house. He follows and closes the door behind us. I pull him into the kitchen by his arm, forgetting for the moment that he hates me. “Could that be Lilith?”

His eyes fly wide and his head snaps around to the door. “Why would you think that?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know … just the way Gabe looked at her, I guess. It reminded me of Matt.”

“How did Gabriel look at her?” He sounds less concerned now and more measured.

“He kind of, you know … checked her out.”

Luc relaxes back into the counter. “She’s not Lilith.”

“How can you be so sure? I’ve never seen Gabe look at anyone like that.”

A thread of jealousy, the first I’ve heard from Luc in a while, is clear in his voice as he answers. “He looks at
you
like that all the time.”

The argument dies in my throat as I glance at the door. Is that all this is? Jealousy? I shake my head. “How can you be sure it’s not her?”

“She’s Grigori,” Luc says, reaching into the cupboard for a glass. “You want some water?”

I spin on him. “Grigori? Like Dad?”

He nods.

“How was I the only one who didn’t know?”

Luc sets the glass on the counter and holds up his hands. “There’s no conspiracy. I just figured it out.”

“How?” I say, incredulous.

He shrugs. “Deductive reasoning. One: Gabriel is going to want extra eyes. Two: She’s not an angel. She cast a sharp shadow on the beach. Compare it to Gabriel’s and it’s easy to tell. Three: Grigori are the Watchers—the protectors. I figured there’d be a few nearby. And four: Gabriel knows her, which was really the dead giveaway.” He says this like any idiot should have been able to figure it out.