Last Rite (5 page)

Ha
. Eventually.

Who am I kidding? Eventually is now. Because time’s up.

But I keep praying for something different; a safer plan for Frannie. So far my prayers have gone unanswered—and I’m afraid I know why.

I head for the door and Luc cuts me a parting glare. Once on the porch I look out over the predictable tides. They’ve ebbed and flowed for eons, just as good and evil have ebbed and flowed. But the balance is shifting. Lucifer has decided the Rules don’t apply anymore. And Frannie is our best weapon to shift it back.

I’ve always known Frannie was special, but I’m starting to think it’s bigger than her Sway. There’s a subtle power that radiates off her. I sensed it in the beginning, and, despite her insecurity and doubt, it gets stronger every day. I can’t identify it—it’s nothing I’ve ever felt before—and I’m afraid of what it means for her. But despite my feelings for her, she’s a soldier and this is a battleground.

I walk out onto the beach and settle into the sand. Its warmth radiates through me as I lie back, closing my eyes. I let the tension run out of me and wash myself in peace, then give myself up to the last crimson rays of Light. There’s a painful tug in my gut as I move with them, nothing more than light myself, and, when I open my eyes, I find myself standing in the Collective. All around me is a whole lot of nothing. White energy. Except, floating in the center of all that nothing is the Board.

The Board is really a misnomer. It’s not a board at all. It’s a sphere. The Earth. It’s ethereal, like a floating cloud, and, at the moment, relatively small—about four feet in diameter. I glance up at the mass of twinkling blue lights dancing over the surface of the Board like fireflies. Humanity. The white lights of the celestial move among them, but it’s the red ones I’m interested in. I step back and ask the Board to size up for better detail.

Instantly, it’s easily a half mile across.

“Gabriel,” a voice says.

Without turning, I spin the Board and take several minutes to peruse it, stopping at the Florida Keys. No red lights within at least a mile of the bungalow. I’m sure the infernal are looking, but they haven’t found her yet. Frannie’s safe for now.

“Thanks for your help at the airstrip,” I finally say.

Celine paces to my side as I reach forward and touch the blue light that represents Frannie.

“You’re welcome,” she says with a crisp nod, her copper curls bouncing with the gesture. “You wanted to know when Marchosias had been located.”

My eyes slide from the Board to Celine. She folds her wings behind her slender frame and points a long finger at a flashing red light just north of Boston.

I rotate the Board and scan the area for white lights. “Who do we have on Frannie’s family?”

She cringes. “You didn’t leave orders…”

Because I was hoping that our leaving would draw them away. “Who’s available?”

Celine sweeps her hand over the Board and a series of white lights flicker, each representing a guardian available to take on a new charge. “Not many. Lucifer’s crews are marauding and there’s more instances of coercion.” Her expression is a mix of sadness and rage as she turns her eyes on me. “He’s cheating, Gabriel, sending them into synagogues, churches, and mosques. He’s actively seeking out innocents and the faithful, influencing them to sin.” She runs a finger over the Board. “We’re bringing new guardians on line every day, accelerating the training program to try and cover the growing need, but we don’t have enough guardians to protect all of humanity.”

The sense of dread that’s been growing steadily in my gut settles deeper and takes root.

It’s starting.

The Almighty has overlooked Lucifer’s contravening of boundaries for too long and now things are starting to spiral out of control.

Frannie
.

I can’t help thinking this escalation has something to do with her. Her power is growing, and so is Lucifer’s brazenness—and His disregard for the Rules.

I look back at my options on the Board. “We’ll send Aaron to Haden. Let him get a feel for the situation.”

Celine’s brows lift in surprise. “Aaron?” she says cautiously. “You’re sure?”

As much as I understand her apprehension, he’s the obvious choice. His last charge—a nun bound for sainthood—just died of natural causes at the ripe age of 104, despite Lucifer’s early and numerous attempts to corrupt her. “He’s my oldest and most experienced,” I say, wincing at the memory of what happened when I sent someone younger and greener.

Celine’s head jerks in a sharp nod. “Done.”

I spin away from the Board as Aaron fades in next to me. He leans his broad frame nonchalantly into a rail that solidifies next to him and quirks a cocky half smile, which brings out his deep dimple on that side. “You rang?” he says with a lift of one platinum brow.

“I need you for a job.” My eyes shift between him and Celine and I wonder, briefly, if I’m making the right call. “Do you think you can stay out of trouble?”

“O ye of little faith,” he says, picking at his perfect teeth with a perfect fingernail.

I sit back into a white executive chair that materializes under me. “This is serious, Aaron. I need you on your best behavior.”

He stops picking at his teeth and cuts me a look. “If you don’t think I can handle it, why did you call me?”

I hold his gaze. “Because I need someone with your experience.”

His mouth twitches into a sardonic smile. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me, then, oh mighty one.” He bows with a flourish.

I pinch my forehead against the sudden sharp pain there.

A headache?
What next?

“Don’t make this personal,” I say through gritted teeth.

His expression twists into something hard. “You’re the one who made this personal when you—”

Celine steps between us, a hand on Aaron’s chest. “He’ll be fine,” she says, her voice low but potent.

Aaron bites back his comment and turns to the Board. “What’s the assignment?”

I haul myself out of the chair, which disappears the instant I push away from it, lift my hand and tap my finger on the Board over Haden. “Help Daniel with whatever he needs.”

He glares at the Board for a moment. “
Daniel?
You’re not serious,” he sneers. “I’m supposed to take orders from a Grigori? He’s fallen, Gabriel,” he adds, folding his arms defiantly across his chest.

Again, I second-guess myself. I’m within a hair’s breadth of telling him to forget the whole thing when Celine speaks. “That’s
her
family, Aaron. What’s wrong? Too big of a job?”

Aaron spins and cuts a glare at me before turning to the Board. “So what is it that I’m supposed to do, exactly?”

“What you do best,” I reply.

He puffs out his chest. “I am the best, though no one around here seems to remember that little factoid.”

It’s useless to point out that being older does not automatically make him better. It’s been a bone of contention since my creation. But the fact is, his real beef is with the archangel Gabriel—not me.

After the War in Heaven, Lucifer fell and started creating His army. Gabriel determined he could no longer serve as the sole protector of all humanity and asked the Almighty for an army of guardians. Aaron was one of the first trained and one of Gabriel’s favorites. Shortly after, when it was decided that Gabriel would delegate control of the guardians to another, Aaron believed he was the obvious choice. So when Gabriel asked the Almighty to create a Dominion to serve as his Left Hand—one more powerful than the guardians who could watch over them—Aaron was furious.

And still is.

He resents me for being what he couldn’t, but he’s smart enough not to take out his frustration on Gabriel. He believes he was slighted, and for the six thousand years since my creation, he’s never let me forget it.

As Aaron smirks and fades out, and his white light pops onto the Board near Frannie’s house, I have to remind myself that he is, in fact, one of the very best.

I follow the Light back to the beach, where I sit and stare out over the waves, red in the glow of the setting sun. I pull myself out of the sand, praying I’m making the right call. If there was a way I could just hide Frannie away forever, I would. But they’re going to find us. With all of Hell looking, it’s just a matter of time.

LUC

Gabriel has gone insane. It’s all I can come up with. Too many eons of breathing ozone has eroded his judgment. And it was questionable to start with.

How he thinks he can put Frannie in the middle of this and have her—and therefore humanity—come out intact is beyond me. The thought sends a chill up my spine.

When I’d resolved to stay behind in Haden … away from Frannie … it was because I thought she was better off with Gabriel—he’d keep her safe. It’s only now, as I walk past him lying on the dark beach, that I realize how wrong I was.

How could he gamble with her life like this? Knowing what she is—what’s at stake—how could he risk it?

I’m so unaccustomed to this role—the helpless bystander. But if Gabriel isn’t going to protect her, it falls on me. There’s no choice. And no going back. The wheels have been set in motion.

I couldn’t even look at Frannie as I said those things—implied I didn’t care about her, had only been using her.

And worse.

I know my words hit the mark because I could hear the pain in her voice when she answered. The certainty that my words couldn’t have possibly hurt her any worse than they hurt me does little to assuage the guilt. My words cut through my insides like a dull knife. Even the echo of them stings.

I walk slowly through the gentle lap of the surf. Water spreads out in front of me, a velvet black carpet as far as the eye can see. The ocean is nearly still, the crescent moon reflected in the vast blackness.

The calm before the storm.

I drop into the sand and stare out over the water, praying that I have the strength to follow through with this. We need to fight Hellfire with Hellfire, and the only way for that to happen is if I’m demon again. Which means Frannie needs to stop wanting me. I need to let go of any lingering hope that she and I can have a life together at the end of all this. The few months I had with her were a beautiful dream.

But I’m awake now.

The dream is dead, and my harsh reality is that Frannie will be too if I can’t keep up the charade. She can’t know how I feel about her. She needs to hate me.

I prop my aching head in my hands, my elbows on my knees, and try to convince myself this is how it should be. I was never meant to be human, and as a human I’m weak. If Frannie is going to stand a chance, I need to stop being selfish.

I need to give her up. For good.

“I’ve never seen Gabriel this stressed.”

I start at the voice behind me. When I pull my head out of my hands, I find Faith standing barefoot in the sand, Jasper’s leash in her hand. He’s tugging against it in my direction. Faith smiles and lets up on the leash. Jasper gives my ear a sniff and plunks himself in the sand next to me, tongue lolling. Faith lowers herself to the sand on the other side of Jasper, legs crossed in front of her.

I look back out over the ocean. “There’s a lot at stake.”

“So it’s true that Frannie has Sway.”

I nod.

She throws another glance down the beach at Gabriel, where he’s still sprawled in the sand. “I was surprised when Gabriel showed up with
two
mortals. Figured it would be just Frannie. Two of you are harder to Shield.”

I think about telling her everything, but end up just saying, “It’s complicated.”

“You’re … together? You and Frannie? That’s why?”

“Not anymore.” I almost sound like I don’t care.

The moonlight gleams in her eyes as she scrutinizes me, and I know I didn’t quite pull it off. I wait for her to say something—to push it—but, finally, she turns her gaze toward the water. “I love the beach at night. It’s so peaceful.”

“Mmm,” I agree, feeling anything but.

My mind is racing, plotting. There have to be a hundred ways I can hurt Frannie—a hundred ways I can destroy her, and myself in the process.

We sit here for a long time, the only sound the gentle lap of the surf and Jasper’s panting. And the storm brewing in my head.

“How well do you know Gabriel?” Faith finally asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

I shrug. “Better than I want to.”

She hesitates. “Does he…” She trails off and her eyes flick toward him. Her gaze dips to the sand in front of her. “Has he ever said anything … about me?”

I look at her then, surprised by what I’m hearing in her voice. “Sorry. No.”

She chews her lip but doesn’t respond.

“How much has he told you about Frannie?” I ask.

“Just that I should keep my eye out. He said she had Sway and the infernals would be coming for her.”

Hearing it out loud is almost more than I can bear. My insides clamp at the thought of Marchosias or Lilith getting anywhere near her. “I want you to tell me if you see anyone … suspicious hanging around.”

Her eyes lift to my face and she cracks a smile. “You’re mortal. What are you going to do about it?”

I hold her gaze and her smile fades. “Just tell me. Please.”

She looks at me suspiciously for a moment, then nods as her eyes shift over my shoulder. “Well, good night,” she says, pulling herself out of the sand.

I look up and see Gabriel is now standing, staring out over the water.

“Good night,” I say as Jasper pulls her past me, toward him.

When she reaches him, he loops an arm over her shoulder.

I haul myself up and head back to the house. I start for my room, but stop. My resolve is set. No time like the present to finish this. I cross slowly to Frannie’s door, but then hesitate as I picture her in her bed. My body reacts—a ripple of heat through my insides—and I breathe deep, steeling myself for what comes next. When I have my hormones mostly in check, I push open her door.

I open my mouth to tell her I’m leaving but then see that she’s asleep. The sheets are tangled around her as she thrashes in her bed. I glide closer and gaze down at her for a long time. Finally, I sit on the edge of the bed and gently sweep her tousled hair off her face.