Chapter 63

63

Farryn

On a raised slab of circular-shaped cement, I lay stretched over a carved sigil, one I’d recognized as that which identified the archangels. The ridges of its surface pressed into my back, and all four of my limbs had been strapped.

After securing me, Drystan had dragged Remy’s growling, demonic form out of the room, leaving me at the mercy of the priest, and the three robed men who stood around the room, as if to stand guard.?Against what, I didn’t know, but the likelihood that any one of them would suddenly get a chivalrous hair up his ass and set me free seemed slim.

As I lay there, my thoughts drifted to Jericho. How badly he wanted to protect me. How much I wished I were back in the safety and security of Blackwater Cathedral. How completely alone I felt, as the trembles wracked my body. Cold numbing shock still had me breathing unsteadily, terrified for what would happen to me.

“Where did you take Remy? What will you do with him?”?I asked.

“His loyalty will be tested in a way that can only be accomplished through excruciating circumstances.” No sooner had Father Bane said the words, and a roar of agonizing pain echoed down the hallway, steeling my muscles.

“You’re torturing him? More than slicing off his wings?”

“It is not torture, but a test of faith. Should he pass, he’ll be permitted to join our army. To be a part of our cause.”

“What cause? What the hell is so important that you would torture someone?”

“Not someone. Something. An infernal creature who feeds off the very sin which created him! Evil is everywhere in this world, child. Without us, there is no one to defend His holy name.”

Another cry of pain bled through the door. I wanted to cover my ears, to shield them from the sound of Remy’s misery, but my bound hands wouldn’t allow it. My heart pounded like a stampede of rhinos was trapped behind my ribs. Palms sweating. Nausea curling in my stomach. A panic attack. “Please, Father. Let me go. I’m begging you. Please let me go.”

“Shhhh.” Father Bane ran his finger over my exposed skin, where the robe I’d worn earlier had slipped off my shoulder. “Do not fear,” he rasped. “The ravishing is our most beautiful gift to The Holy Father.”

“Call me crazy, but I don’t think the Holy fucking Father appreciates cult porn.”

A hard crack against my cheek kicked my head to the side, the sting smarting my skin. “Blasphemous little harlot! You should have your tongue removed for such disrespectful words.”

“So you can add it to your little scrap-pile of body parts?” On a humorless burst of laughter, I shook my head. “Do you even know what Hines is?”

“He is a loyal disciple. A long-standing member of the Pentacrux.”

“Spoiler alert--he’s a fucking demon! Did you think you were pasting feathers on a goddamn pi?ata? The guy has a forked tongue, for crying out loud!”

“You are a wicked child. Cursed!” He rested his cold and wrinkled hand against my stomach, and I twitched. “But fear not, for when your soul is given over, the curse will be broken. The beast who covets you will fall to slumber once more.”

“The beast wouldn’t have given a damn about you, had you left me alone. He hasn’t bothered with you assholes in centuries. You’re fulfilling Hines’s vengeance and nothing more.”

“This is more than vengeance, girl. The Holy Father has entrusted our kind with banishing the evil which seeks to corrupt the purest of souls. He does not allow for reincarnation--that is the work of witches and demons. The evil inside of you must be banished.”

As he spoke, a shadow lurked behind him, and I lifted my head, wondering if I’d actually seen something there. Wouldn’t have been Drystan, the way it moved as if not wanting to be seen. I craned my neck to look behind me, and my eyes shot to where the Pentacrux soldiers had stood guard only moments before. Two of the three lay on the ground in pools of what I guessed was blood.

A beat of panic stirred in my gut. Where had the third one gone? And assuming he killed the other two, was it Father Bane, or me, next on his hit list?

“And so ... what if I don’t get pregnant, huh?” The question was supposed to serve as a distraction, to keep from alerting Father Bane to whatever the hell was going on in the background. Although, both of us had totally snoozed on two guards getting killed, so whatever heightened senses the priest had acquired from being blind, he sure as hell wasn’t in tune to them. The shadowed figure appeared again.

Jericho?

It couldn’t be. Much as I really needed to see Jericho right then, I knew he wouldn’t have risked coming to this side. Not if he thought my life would be at stake by doing so. Perhaps my perception was skewed, but the shadow seemed smaller than what I remembered of Jericho’s size, anyway.

“You will. It is written in the prophecies,” Father Bane prattled on, seemingly unaware of the approaching attacker--whether his, or mine, had yet to be determined.

“Yeah, well, good luck. I can’t even get a box of muffin mix to bake right.”

The figure stalked closer, and I could see that it definitely wasn’t Jericho, but a strange man with scars on his face and obsidian black eyes. Terrifying eyes. He lifted a godawful flail weapon, and the panic from before turned to full-blown hysteria.

My muscles locked.

Pulse hastened.

Breaths turned more rapid.

“What has you in a tizzy, girl? I can hear your panting like a little rabbit.”

The stranger raised the pronged weapon and, in the next breath, slammed it into Father Bane’s skull on a sickening crack. Before I could even process what I’d just seen, he reached into the old man’s mouth, ripped out his tongue, and tossed it aside.

Ripped out his tongue.

Rivulets of blood trickled down the priest’s face, and he crumpled to the floor.

Mouth agape, I gasped, but couldn’t release the scream caught at the back of my throat. Only a strained squeal of a whimper managed to slip past my lips.

Slam after slam of the weapon was interrupted by the wet sounds of flesh and gore. Another slam sent a spray across my cheek, and I kicked my head to the side, blinking away the droplets on my lashes. The attack seemed to last for minutes before the room quieted again.

Shock rippled through me, as I stared up at the man who stared down at what I imagined was a mess of Father Bane, and I was glad that I couldn’t see it from where I lay. Blood and small bits of meat covered the white robe, reminding me of a butcher’s apron.

A sob broke inside my chest, not for the priest, but the horror that gripped me so tightly, I could scarcely breathe.

“I was ten,” the stranger said in an eerily spacey voice. “Ten, when he and the others did what they did.”

Following an exceptionally long and terrifying pause, I inhaled a shuddering breath. “I’m … s-s-sorry. For what happened.”

Wiping off the bits of flesh from his robe, he shifted his attention to me. “The angel sent me. I was summoned here.”

“Angel?”

“He told me to kill those who hurt me.” When he looked back toward the floor, his ruined?lips curved into a smile that quickly faded when he turned his attention back to me again. “You saw it all. You weren’t supposed to see. I have to kill you now, too.”

Panic exploded inside of me, and the cold numb feeling from before washed over me again. Frantically shaking my head, I squirmed in my binds. “You don’t … you don’t have to do that.”

“The angel told me to do it. He told me to kill him.”

“I b-b-believe you. But … I won’t tell a soul!”

“I’m sorry.” He raised the flail up into the air.

“Oh, God!” I slammed my eyes shut, bracing for the pain of that first swing.

At the sound of a sharp grunt, I opened my eyes and turned to see the scarred man twitching. His body, face, limbs. His head shook impossibly fast, a terrifying sight that had me twisting in my binds, desperate to get away.

The flail fell from his grip, falling to the floor in a clamor, and he dropped to his knees, convulsing.

I wanted to scream, but for whom? Drystan? The ongoing sound of Remy’s screams in the background not only added to the horror of my circumstances, but ensured the asshole wouldn’t hear my screams, anyway.

The stranger squeezed his eyes shut, his head shaking in a blur of movement. When he opened them, the horrific black had turned a pale blue, his face a mask of confusion. He lifted his arms, twisting them in front of him, then stared down at himself. When his gaze met mine again, I jerked back on a gasp.

“Farryn?”

“S-s-stay away from me.” I wriggled in my binds, desperate to get loose.

“It’s Jericho. It’s me, Farryn.”

Jericho?“You’re lying.” It couldn’t be him. He wouldn’t have risked coming back for me. “This is a trick.”

“It’s not a trick. I took over this body, and fucking hell, it’s as comfortable as wearing burlap boxers on a hot day.”

The comment had me stilling, and I let out a nervous laugh.

He went to work unlatching my binds. “Where is Drystan?”

It was him. It was him!

A crazed chuckle slipped past my lips in my disbelief. “I … I … I don’t know. He dragged Remy somewhere.” It was then I noticed Remy’s screams had ceased.

“We don’t have much time. We need to lure him back to Nightshade, so that I can properly kill him.”

He’s really here!

Even if he didn’t look like Jericho, his mannerisms told me it was him. I mentally forced myself to absorb his words that bounced alongside the chaos in my head. “Why can’t you do it now?”

“In this body, I can be mortally wounded.” Once all of my binds were loosened, he lifted me up off the table.

“Mortally wounded?”

“It was the only way I could cross over without being discovered. If I don’t return, I remain mortal. And I will never be capable of defeating Drystan, even at his weakest.”

As he led me toward the door, I yanked him to me, but paused on seeing the foreign, blood-stained scar-face again. The urge to kiss him deflated like a balloon. Instead, I kissed his cheek. “Hi,” I said in a shaky voice.

“This is your taking again?”

“Yeah. Bad timing, I know. I’m just … freaking out here.”

“I’d say so.” He yanked me close and peered out the door into the hallway. “Sorry about that, by the way.” He spoke low, as he glanced back at me. “The degenerate cad who almost bashed your skull.”

“You’re the angel who sent him?” I asked in a whisper, not wanting to alert Drystan to our escape.

“Yeah. I’d forgotten about him, up until I learned that I needed a host body in order to cross planes. He was a murdering pedophile I let go, but I put my mark on him a while back, so he was fairly easy to summon.” He glanced over his shoulder at me and led me out into the dark hallway. “You see what happens when I’m merciful?”

“I’m beginning to like your ruthless nature, actually. So, where do we have to go to return? And don’t I need a nightshade flower, or something?”

“No. Once we cross the plane, this body will dissolve and mine will be restored. I’ll once again have my wings, and I can shield you. But we have to get to the highest point in the church.”

“The highest point? Why?”

“Crossing planes isn’t exactly a walk in the park.”

The sound of growling brought us to a stop, and Jericho halted midstride. He tipped his head, peering into an adjacent room, and my nails dug into his skin as I clutched his arm, trembling. He flipped on a light, exposing a massive pit in the center of the room. The stench on the air reeked of rot and decay, and when the two of us looked down, I could see the pit extended into an unfathomable darkness, where hundreds of the alatum climbed over each other, clawing at the walls for us.

Dragging me behind him, Jericho slipped back out of the room and a voice from behind stopped us in our tracks.

“Clever, Brother. Disguised, so the Sentinels don’t sense your presence.” Both of us turned to find Drystan standing halfway down the corridor, his morbid wings outstretched behind him. “What do you think of my army, Jericho? Impressive, isn’t it?”

“What the hell did you do?” Jericho asked, his voice tinged in disgust.

“What I had to do after my wings were cut away. Granted, they’re not near as pretty as yours, but they’ll do, don’t you think?” At his back, stood about half a dozen men, dressed in black, leather military vests that carried the Pentacrux sigil, their garb clearly distinguishing them from the acolytes. Each of them held various weapons--some with daggers, some holding swords and mallets.

All of which were capable of mortally wounding Jericho.

“I believe you’ve stolen something that belongs to me.” Drystan’s gaze shifted to me and back.

“I will not let you have her,” Jericho gritted. “You, or the Sentinels.”

His lips stretched to a grin. “They will arrive soon. And I’m certain they’ll take pleasure in your punishment. If I don’t kill you first.”

“Killing me won’t bring your wings back.”

Drystan’s dark chuckle echoed down the hallway. “No. It won’t. It’ll just feel really, really good.” He shot toward us, and Jericho spun around on his heel. The two of us pushed through a door to a stairwell, and Jericho urged me ahead of him, as we raced up one flight of stairs after the other.

Ears thumping with the rush of blood, I didn’t hear the footsteps approaching, until the first clash of metal echoed in the stairwell. I turned to see Jericho swing his flail down on the skull of a Pentacrux soldier and, after dislodging the metal, kicked him over the bannister, where he fell to the darkness below. A second one lurched toward us, followed by a third. Jericho fought them both in a clash of steel that ended in the soldiers’ grisly demise. A fourth rounded the stairwell and managed a slice to Jericho’s flank. He let out a growl of pain, the sound of which sent a flare of panic through me, and swung his flail at the more inexperienced soldier, lobbing his head clean off. Jericho picked up the fallen soldier’s sword, holding both weapons at the ready. A fifth advanced toward us, but quickly changed direction, heading back down the stairs.

I eyeballed the blood seeping into the robe at his flank where he’d been hit. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

With a nudge from behind, Jericho urged me to keep going. It wasn’t until we were three flights up that the sound of growling echoed up the stairwell, and I peered over the bannister to see the demonic creatures scrambling after us.

“Oh, my God!”

I hustled as fast as I could in the stupid gown and robe, trying not to trip on the fabric that danced around my ankles. Jericho took hold of my arm, lifting me up every time I stumbled. We reached a set of double doors and slammed through to the roof of the church. Once clear, Jericho used the flail’s long rod to lodge into the doors’ handles, creating a barrier against the advancing creatures.

I spun around to find a Pentacrux soldier rushing toward me, and on instinct, I scooped up a handful of gravel to toss at his face.

As he raised his hand to cover the flying stones, Jericho sliced his stomach with his blade. The soldier swung out, and a hot streak of pain zipped across my arm where he’d cut me.

“Ah, shit!” I jumped backward, and Jericho lurched forward.

The clash of metal rang in my ears, as they dueled. The soldier, a bit more skilled than his comrades had been, was still no match for Jericho’s impeccable defenses. Even mortal, he was far more advanced in fighting and his reflexes were quicker.

A short distance from the brawl, I caught sight of Drystan, his flimsy-looking wings seeming to struggle with keeping him in the air.

I glanced around for something I could use to defend myself, but there was nothing. Nothing but gravel.

An outcry cut short by a gurgle sound snapped my attention back toward Jericho and the soldier, who fell to his knees with the business end of Jericho’s sword impaling his throat. He dropped his sword, and after dislodging his own, Jericho picked it up.

The sound of thumping from behind skated down my nerves, and I spun to see the doors straining against the flail, their handles bending against its rod.

“Oh, God, Jericho, they’re coming.”

A flash of something out of the corner of my eye had me whirling back around to face Drystan. A burn streak discolored the gravel not far from us, and I snapped back to Jericho. “I thought he was cambion. He can manipulate lightning, too?”

“He never could before. I don’t know how he acquired the ability to manipulate it, but he doesn’t have wings to disperse all of that energy.”

As soon as he said it, I noticed where Drystan’s wings had apparently burned, the human skin he’d used unequipped to handle the heat of the charge.

“I dare you to jump, Brother,” Drystan taunted, and he sent a bolt of electricity barreling toward us.

One hard shove knocked me to the ground, and at a roar of pain, I twisted onto my back, to see that Jericho had taken the hit to his side. Beneath the torn robe where the fabric had singed away, a streak of burnt flesh marked where the current had touched him.

“Not quite as fun with a mortal body, is it?” The amusement in Drystan’s voice heightened the terror pulsing through me, and when the door burst open around the creatures who snarled and prowled toward us, I could scarcely breathe.

Jericho groaned, his hand set over his injury as he stumbled to his feet. “You always were a lousy shot,” he rasped.

Another charge struck him again, this one hitting his left shoulder and knocking him backward to the ground. Another roar of agony, and I scrambled toward him, using my body as a shield.

“Wait! Please. Don’t hurt him.” Tears filled my eyes, and I held out my hand, as the creatures closed in on us. With both hands, I lifted the sword, surprised by the cumbersome weight of it. As I lurched forward and gracelessly swung out, the blade sliced one of the approaching creatures, and not a second later, he lit into flames.

I’d have celebrated that uncanny moment of pure luck, except that it didn’t seem to stop their advancing.

Their growls heightened, sending me into a frenzy of fear.

“Perhaps it might be more fun watching them tear the two of you apart. I can’t quite decide.”

I swung out again, and the weight of the sword had me stumbling off balance. Jericho let out a painful groan and leaned forward, relieving me of the weapon. How easily he held it outward, even without his usual strength, as if it weighed nothing.

One of the creatures broke from the circle and darted toward us. Jericho swung out on a grunt, and the creature dodged his attack. It lunged again, skirting Jericho’s much slower reflexes, and headed straight for me.

I held out my hand and spoke the first thing that popped in my head.

“Ca’ligo an a tua!” Heat blazed in my cheeks, the ridiculous phrase sounding just as weird coming from my mouth as it had when Aunt Nelle would say it, the many times I suffered night terrors.

Under any other circumstances, I would’ve cringed at myself for thinking of it right then.

Except, the creature froze in place, snapping its teeth and clawing at us.

“Holy shit.” A burst of laughter flew from my chest. “It worked! I can’t believe it worked!”

“You speak Caelicolan?” The confusion in Jericho’s voice matched my own.

“No. What is that? I don’t have a clue what the hell I just said.”

“Language of the Nephilim.”

After what Drystan had told me about her, that made sense. Another time, another place, it also might’ve left me feeling a little creeped out at what she’d been actually warding off.

But as a second creature barreled forward, I relented those thoughts and spoke the same words, bringing that one to a halt, as if its limbs had gone frozen.

“What is this?” Drystan asked, repulsed.

Linking my arm into Jericho’s, I kept my hand held outward, and we backed ourselves toward the edge of the building.

Two more creatures dashed forward, and as I opened my mouth to speak the words, Drystan sent another bolt of electricity down on us.

I didn’t bother to say them aloud that time, and the moment the creatures leapt for us, they fell to the ground, hit with the electric charge that had been meant for Jericho and me.

Another of the Alatum charged toward Jericho and I, stopped short when Jericho swung out the sword and lobbed its head clean off its shoulders. As more of them advanced on us, he took hold of my arm, and I let out a gasp as he dragged me over the edge of the building.

A scream died in my throat when Drystan reached out and clutched my leg, holding me suspended between him, above me, and Jericho, who dangled from my outstretched hand.? Pressure tore at my limbs. I let out a cry of pain. I was going to split in two.

One of the Alatum leapt onto Drystan’s back, the hard impact of its landing bouncing me in the air on a stomach-curling dip. Drystan’s grip faltered, and the sound of his curse thundered above me.

All at once, the pressure gave way. I fell like a pile of rocks toward the church’s parking lot. My stomach rose up into my chest, and I opened my mouth for a scream that failed to come out. Down, down, we fell, and at a flash of light from above, the world shifted to darkness.

An intense heat beat against me, and I shook as it felt like I’d been engulfed in flames.

I screamed so hard, my voice turned hoarse, and the darkness lifted to the whoosh of Jericho’s wings.

His wings!

Growls whizzed past us, as the wingless creatures fell toward what was no longer the church parking lot, but a forest, clawing at us as they passed. Another bolt of lightning railed down on us from above, and Jericho’s wings lit up, sending an intense vibration through me.

We flew over treetops and open fields, and when I dared a downward glance, I saw the demons scrambling on foot to keep up.

A flock of ravens dove toward them, and the creatures swiped out at them, their pace only slowed by the attack. Beyond them, Jericho angled toward the ground, sending a nauseating tickle to my chest with the sudden descent, and he set me down in a clearing.

The demons charged toward us, growling and hissing.

He held out his arms, while jagged lights of energy sparked over his wings. He thrust the lightning toward the oncoming beasts, and their screeches echoed around us. More galloped behind them, and Jericho sent another round, scattering them in all directions. Flames caught on the forest bed and quickly ignited to a blazing wall of fire.

Drystan touched down outside of the flame and pushed to his feet, stalking toward us. Swiping me up into his arms, Jericho took flight again, and before I knew it, we’d reached the cliff where Blackwater Cathedral stood just a short distance away.

Once again, he set me down on the ground, just before a bolt of lightning struck him. I could hardly see in the darkness, as he shot into the sky like a dark arrow.

Cerberus and the other two dogs trotted up alongside me, and I watched the sky, as jagged slivers of lightning lit up the clouds overhead. A storm waging above me.

At the snarling of the dogs, I lowered my attention to one of the demonic creatures edging toward me.

Fear gripped my throat. The dogs continued to growl in threat, the hair on their backs standing on end.

Undeterred, the demon prowled closer and stretched its bony arm out, only inciting a frenzy of snarls and barks from the dogs that guarded me at both sides. Clutched in one of the demon’s claws was an object I recognized. The small piece of metal that Garic had used to end his life.

An ache swelled in my chest. “Remy?”

The dogs growled back, and as Cerberus reared back on his haunches to pounce, I held his collar.

“No. Stay.”

They followed my command, though the hairs on their backs remained standing.

Remy growled and hissed, but it didn’t feel like a threat. It felt as if he were trying to communicate something to me.

“Please. I want to understand you.”

Another creature bounded past him, coming for me, and he reached out for it, dragging it backward, and wrangled the kicking beast to the ground. With claws and teeth, Remy tore at it, ripping away chunks at a time, until there was nothing left but a pile of mangled and bloody meat. When he turned to me, face covered in gore, I gasped, backing up a step.

The dogs lurched again, but with a half dozen more Alatum bounding toward us, they abandoned their fight with Remy and went after the others. In a cacophony of growls and snarls, I stood paralyzed, shifting my attention between the brawl and Remy.

A terrifying vulnerability crept beneath my skin. The Alatum retreated back into the woods, the dogs tearing after them, leaving me standing there. Alone. Exposed.

Remy hobbled closer like an animal, and I sucked in a sharp breath, jumping back at his nearing proximity.

He held out the unusual-shaped piece of metal toward me.

A sadness claimed the demon’s eyes that were as black as coal.

Tears wobbled my view of him, and I nodded, reaching out until he’d placed the metal into my awaiting palm.

He tipped his head back in surrender. Closing my eyes, I exhaled and slid the metal across his throat.

Not a breath later, he burst into flames, and it wasn’t long before his entire body was consumed. I only hoped where I’d sent him was more peaceful that the fate he’d have otherwise faced.

Beyond his remains, an object fell from the sky and landed with a sickening thud that rattled the ground on impact.

Heart caught in my throat, I jogged toward it, praying that it wasn’t Jericho I’d find lying there.

As I neared, I could make out Drystan’s weakened form clawing across the ground, coughing and wheezing. Holes marred his wings, and half of one had been burned away to nothing but the bones that’d been fastened together. The hollow rattle of each inhale punctuated his struggle to breathe.

A short distance off, Jericho landed behind him and stalked forward. Hands balled into fists, shoulders bunched. Even in darkness, I could see the rage blazing through him like flames.

With the small bit of metal still clutched in my palm, I ran past Drystan to Jericho, handing it off to him.

He strode up to his weakened brother, who continued to crawl toward the cliff, perhaps trying to escape back to the mortal realm. Foot against the cambion’s back, Jericho brought his crawling to a halt and gripped Drystan’s crown, tipping his head back.

“I should’ve killed you all those years ago. It was my mother who urged me to spare you. My mother who showed you mercy. Not me.”

“Please … all I want … is her … father.” Every word Drystan spoke was broken by a gurgling sound in his throat. “To restore … my wings. Let me go. I’m … begging you. Brother.”

“You are no brother to me,” Jericho gritted out, wrenching Drystan’s head back.

“This isn’t … over.” His throat bobbed with a hard gulp. “The Sentinels … they’ll … come. For you. And … punish.”

“What else is new?” Not a breath later, Jericho swiped the sharp end of the metal across Drystan’s throat. Blood oozed from his wound, and Jericho released him, stepping to the side, as Drystan writhed and cupped his throat for the breath that wouldn’t save him. “Back to Ex Nihilo for you, Brother.”

The moment he’d spoken the words, Drystan’s body caught flame. No more than a minute, he was nothing more than ash and cinder.

Eyes on what remained of Drystan, I skirted the ashes and stood beside Jericho, sliding my hand into his, allowing the balm of his warm skin against mine to settle my nerves.

“That was clever, to ward off those Alatum back there. I’d never heard that particular phrase before.” His voice carried a battle-weary calmness as he lifted our clasped hands to his lips for a kiss.

With a smile, I nodded at the memory of Aunt Nelle sitting at the end of my bed, throwing those words out like holy water around the room. “That was Aunt Nelle’s cure for the night terrors I suffered. Though, I’m beginning to wonder if maybe there was something more than dreams she was warding off. I always thought it was a phrase she made up.”

“Definitely not. I’m not as proficient in the language, but I do understand it.” Jericho pulled me in for a kiss. Slow and gentle, he held my face and kissed me with a thousand promises. “Hi,” he said, when he pulled away.

Warmth swelled inside my chest.?I kissed him again and smiled against his lips. “Hi.”

An upward glance showed the blood red moon in the sky, casting a crimson haze over the black sea, and with the cathedral’s silhouette in the foreground, the sight took my breath away. For the first time since I’d arrived in this strange land, I felt home.

Home.

It was then it occurred to me.

The prophecy.

I should’ve died tonight.

The sliver of black at the edge of the moon told me the eclipse would soon pass.

Jericho’s words from days ago echoed through my mind.

There is only one way to break the curse.

A strange sensation expanded behind my ribs.

Pregnant?

Confused, I touched my hand to my stomach and turned to face Jericho.

His lips slanted into a perplexed-looking smile, gaze flitting between my hand and my face.

Neither of us said a word, perhaps both of us caught in a state of shock. A tearful laugh finally bubbled out of me, as a wave of nervous excitement left me trembling from the discovery.

“A baby?” I whispered. I hadn’t wanted one, if I was being honest. Had never dreamed of children, or pregnancy, at all. But suddenly, it took on new meaning. The obscurity of before sharpened into piercing black eyes and soft black hair. Jericho’s baby. Inside of me. My body. Through tears of utter surprise, I laughed again and threw my arms around him.

“You are my eternity,” he whispered.

Someone approaches!

Voices coming from above pulled my attention to where the birds circled overhead.

Frowning, I unraveled my hands from his neck and stared up at the sky.

A sharp grunt snapped my attention back to Jericho. The smile on his face faded to something that, had it been capable of reaching out, would’ve punched through my heart with irreparable damage. Through a haze of tears, I looked down to where, from the center of his chest, the tip of a sword protruded.

A gut-wrenching whoosh. Followed by another.

On the ground, at either side of him, lay two magnificent, severed wings.

Panic rose inside of me.

The world moved in slow motion. Tick. Tick. Tick. Like the clock in the belltower.

I couldn’t breathe. My throat tugged for a single sip of air, but my lungs remained locked.

Frozen.

Breathe. Breathe!

Behind him, stood his attacker. A man I only vaguely recognized.

Shifting my gaze back to Jericho, I searched for assurance. Hope. The safety and security that I’d come to expect in him.

Instead, he dropped to his knees, and as he stared up at me, I saw something swirling in his eye that I had never seen before in this formidable man. It stirred a thick, black dread in the very pit of my stomach.

Fear.

Not a second later, he tipped his head back and closed his unpatched eye.

His body burst into flames.

No. No! No!

A horrific, agonizing scream ripped through me, watching the fire consume him. “Jericho! Please! No!” The flame licked my hand when I reached out. And in no more than thirty seconds, my entire world crumbled to ash.

No. My head refused to accept it. No. Just a nightmare. Wake up, Farryn! Wake up!

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t wake up from it.

A cold branching fear spread inside my chest. Every muscle in my body trembled. Every cell burned.

No. A shield of denial had me shaking my head. No. Not him. Not him. He couldn’t die. Not when we’d survived. Not when we’d won.

Panic stirred inside of me, reality sitting on the fringes, waiting to pull me under the surface and drown me. Don’t look at it, my head urged. But I couldn’t look away from the pile of ash, all that remained of him, and the pain drove through me like a barbed spike.

I fell to my knees.

No!

A horrible sound of misery ripped from my chest. Every moment with him flashed behind my eyes—Lustina’s memories coupled to my own.

The smile on his lips when he’d mended the bird.

The ever-present adoration when I’d catch him staring at me.

The ocean blue of his gaze that promised endless possibility.

The warmth of his skin when he took my hand.

All of it gone. Erased.

The pain twisted in my stomach, ripping and scratching at my insides with furious determination. I rested my hand there and tipped my head back, tears streaming down my temples.

Too much. It was too much pain!

‘Remember when the pain becomes too much …’he’d once said to me.

The cold water. The blood moon. A hand covering my face, muting the word to silence.

“Mercy!” I cried out. “Mercy!”

The birds still circling overhead dispersed in an explosion of wings and caws. The world around me stilled. I reached for the blowing bits of ash and held him in my palm.

Gone.

Something else rose up inside of me, like a monster clawing from its depths.

Rage. Pure. Raw. Violent.

I swiped up the sword lying on the ground beside Jericho’s ashes, and as I stormed toward his killer on a murderous battle cry, a sharp pain struck my ankle, sending my feet flying from beneath me, and I dropped the sword. The bone rattling agony spiraled up my leg in shooting jags of hot needles, and I looked up to find the man holding out his hands, as if an invisible bullet had shot out of them.

“Lustina, listen to me.” The voice that spoke to me was familiar. As dreadful as the man to whom it belonged.

Bishop Venable.

“Why! Why did you do this! Why!” When I pushed to my feet, the agony struck my leg again, and I tumbled to the ground a second time.

“He chose this.” His words pummeled my chest like a heavy rock, and I gasped.?“The price to save you was giving up his wings. For a Sentinel, it is essentially giving up his immortality.”

Eyes brimming with tears, I shook my head in anger and disbelief. Irrational anger. Molten-hot anger that burned my insides.

“No. You’re lying. He wouldn’t do that. You’re lying!”

“I will give you one opportunity to return to your own world. It was his only condition. Luckily for you, we are bound by conditions in this world, or you’d suffer the same fate as before. At the foot of the mountain, you will find a ferry.” From his pocket, he retrieved a coin--the one Jericho had offered as a means to return, and he threw it onto the ground just out of my reach. “Pay the ferryman, and you will be given safe passage back to your world. Stay here? And I will see to it that you are hunted for eternity.”

Frowning, I stared down at the coin he’d dropped on the ground, and lifted it to find the face of a demon on one side, an angel on the other.

“Seems the curse is broken. For now. Congratulations. Should you bear a daughter, though, it will carry on through her.”

“Why are you doing this?” I would’ve begged that he send me to the same fate, except I was certain that I had a life inside of me. Jericho’s baby. “Why let me go, at all?”

“Because even in the afterlife, we are not exempt from wrath’s punishment,” he said, before turning away from me.