Chapter 68

68

Farryn

Dreams startled me upright, and on a gasp, I searched the dark bedroom, finding only a vacant chair and the curtains fluttering in the wind from the open window.

It’d been days since I performed the ritual that Gabriel had translated for me.

Had I done it wrong?

Had he lied?

The possibility of Jericho’s return had been the only thing that’d kept me going so long without cracking. I didn’t have a plan for this. Didn’t give a thought to what I’d have done if it hadn’t worked, because I needed it to work. I needed it to be true. The alternative terrified me.

Movement outside of the window caught my eye. Something black stirred with an abruptness that left me wondering if it was the demons again. A cold and paralyzing fear gripped me, until Camael jumped up onto my bed and sat at the end of it, meowing. Not in threat, but in greeting.

Nervous, I climbed out of bed and padded toward the window, pushing back the curtain just in time to see a black raven fly off into the night. “Cicatrix,” I whispered.

Hope blossomed inside my chest. I didn’t want it to. In fact, my head urged me to tamp it down, having awakened so many nights in disappointment. This was different, though. Seeing the bird was a sign. A good one, I hoped. Spinning on my heel, I dashed across the room for my robe, and flicked on the lights.

Nothing.

Nothing under the bed, when I bent down to look.

As I reached for the knob of my bedroom door, I closed my eyes, listening for any movement. Please.

I threw back the door to an empty hallway, and searched the adjacent rooms, closets, bathrooms. Under beds and beneath desks. Every room that bore no evidence of Jericho’s return sent an ache to my chest.

I rounded the bannister and dashed down the staircase to the first floor.

Nothing in the parlor.

Nothing in Aunt Nelle’s old office.

Not the living room, either.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Tears gathered in my eyes, and I shook my head, certain that it was Cicatrix I’d seen.

Then a sound captured my attention. The windchimes I’d placed just inside of the mudroom door to alert me of any strangers. Muscles steeled with distress, I quietly padded toward the kitchen, realizing I had nothing of a weapon, if it was an intruder.

As I approached the room, I caught sight of a shadowy figure, and I skidded to a halt. Slapping a trembling hand over my gasp of shock, I reached for the lightswitch beside me.

I held my breath.

Flipped it on.

Leaning against the counter, Jericho stood naked, his arms crossed over his body as he shivered. The silvery tattoos across his skin sparked and flickered, as if they moved. The patch that typically covered his ruined eye was absent, showing off the grisly-sewn eye socket.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The pressure inside my chest felt as if it might burst. I closed my eyes, praying he’d be there when I opened them again, and to my utter delight, he was.

Except, something wasn’t right.

“Jericho?” As I stepped toward him, he edged away, and it was then I could see he was in a state of shock.

The trembles intensified, his skin turning paler.

He stumbled to the floor, and I lurched toward him, reaching out to grab his arm.

A zap of electricity exploded across my fingertips, and I jumped back, recoiling my hand. “Shit!” The bright current danced over him, as he lay seizing on the floor. “Jericho!”

I wanted so badly to hold him, but I couldn’t. Instead, I held my hands over his body, feeling useless.

He’d come back to me, and I couldn’t even touch him.

Through panting breaths of panic, I stared down at his hand, which shook uncontrollably beside his face. One hand against my belly, I closed my eyes. Please don’t hurt the baby. I dared to touch him again.

Against the shock of pain that rolled through me, I gripped his hand and held it tightly in mine.

The baby stirred inside of me. And as I loosened my grip, intent on letting go, the pain subsided.

Only the incessant trembles remained.

Jericho opened his eye, which was bluer than before. An intensely bright blue, and his pupil had shrank so much, it almost didn’t appear there, at all. His brow twitched with what I prayed was a flicker of recognition.

His skin felt cold to the touch. So cold, I wondered if there was so much as a drop of warmth inside him.

“We have to get you warm,” I whispered, tugging at his arm.

With some resistance, he sat upright and allowed me to help him to his feet. Through the kitchen, I guided him toward the upper level of the house. The wooden steps groaned under his massive weight, and when he stumbled, it took all of my strength to keep him from falling.

We finally reached the small bathroom, made even smaller when he stepped inside, trapping me between the old-fashioned claw-tub shower and the door. I flipped on the water, letting it run, until the steam drifted over top of the curtain, then adjusted the dials so it wouldn’t scald him.

He stood shivering behind me, his gaze spacey. Unfocused.

I reached for his hand and guided him into the water. The moment the spray hit him, he inhaled sharply, muscles tensed, and he stood frozen, as if he couldn’t move. The electrical sparks danced over him, and the slits on his back for his wings expanded and contracted with his breathing, like gills. I focused on the feel of his skin beneath my palm. The tangibility of his body. A wave of emotion moved through me, his form blurred behind a shield of tears. Hold your shit together, Farryn. It was him. Here. In my fucking shower with its old yellowing tiles and the faint scent of bleach from when I’d cleaned it earlier.

Errant drops of water hit my face, mingling with the tears that slipped down my cheeks. I carefully rubbed the water over his back, working it into his skin to absorb the heat, and paused on noticing a flicker of something at his left flank. The burn streak, where he’d been struck by Drystan’s lightning bolt the night he’d died had begun to heal before my eyes. The edges of the wound came together, sealing perfectly into place. Running my finger over the smooth surface left me wondering if it was ever there to begin with. The other, numerous scars, scattered over and between the tattoos on his back must’ve been administered by something that kept him from healing. So many.

Once I’d washed him clean and his skin felt warmer, I flipped off the water and nabbed a towel from the nearby linen shelf. I left him in the warmth of the steamy bathroom to see if the boxes that’d belonged to my father might have any clothes that would fit him, as unlikely as that was.

Rifling through the old, unopened boxes, which sort of smelled like moth balls, I managed to find an old Yale tee and a pair of gray sweatpants that’d probably be way too big around Jericho’s narrow waist. Luckily, they had a drawstring.

When I returned to the bathroom, the door stood open, the room empty. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a brief moment of panic on not seeing him, but when I made my way to my bedroom, I found him standing in the middle of it with the towel wrapped at his waist, his body glistening from the dripping of his wet hair.

“I, um … brought you some clothes.” I set them down on a nearby chair, noticing the slight tremble of my hands. “They probably won’t fit, but …. Hey, are you hungry?“

His lack of response to the question left me wondering if he even had the ability to speak anymore, when he turned to face me, his eye still too bright for the face I remembered. While he raked his gaze over me, his chest rose and fell with quick breaths. As if taking me in for the first time, he wore an expression of panic that told me he didn’t trust what he was seeing. Brow pinched with confusion, he stared off for a moment, as though some memory had caught his attention. Something darkened his eye, and it wasn’t until he stepped closer, that I realized it was the dilating of his pupil, making him look feral. Wild.

“My wings. I cannot summon my wings.” That voice. That beautiful, rich and guttural voice. How badly I’d missed it.

“I … um … I suppose not. They were severed. That night.” My voice wobbled on the last word, remembering so vividly, and the rims of my eyes stung with the threat of more tears.

He stood thoughtful. Pensive. The unreadable expression on his face prompting a million questions in my mind.

“Jericho?” Fingers fidgeting, I didn’t know what to say, or do. I longed to help him, but without him saying anything, I didn’t know where his head was at. Shock? Anger over his wings? Relief for having returned?

Before I even had the chance to brace myself, he shot toward me, impossibly fast, and the wall behind me crashed into my spine. Frantic and desperate, warm lips hunted my throat, and he grazed his teeth over the crook of my collarbone, the sensation rendering me dizzy. He dragged his nose along the edge of my neck, smelling me. Rough fingers sank into my hair, holding me, as if I had any inclination to escape him, and he seized my lips. Neither gentle, nor sweet, he kissed me like he was angry. Violent. Punishing me.

I didn’t know what was happening. And I didn’t care that he was angry.

I kissed him back with the same vindictive force, taking his lip between my teeth and biting down. Digging my nails into his scalp.

The hem of my nightgown tickled my legs as he hiked it up to my belly. Fingers lodged into the hem of my panties, and he viciously ripped the fabric away, tossing it off to the side. His shoulders bunched beneath my hands, muscles shaking with tension. He tore the towel away from his lower half and pressed his length against my bare sex like a threat. Up and down, he rubbed his shaft across my seam, trembling with what I could only surmise as bottled-up rage. Toward me?

The current dancing over his shaft created a delectable tingle over my too-sensitive flesh with every long and tormenting drag. Weak and lust-drunk, I ground my ass against the wall, desperate to feel him inside of me.

The prod of his tip was the only warning before he impaled me on a hard thrust, and I let out a hearty gasp. I could’ve reminded him that I was pregnant with his child, to be gentler, softer.

But I didn’t want gentle, or soft. The world could treat me like I was frail and fragile, but I’d be damned if I let him treat me that way. Because I was angry, too. Angry at the time I’d lost with him. The tears I’d cried. The worry and sleepless nights and hopelessness and pain. As he drove up into me without restraint, I curled my fingers into his flesh, and bit down hard into his shoulder. Like ribbons and steel, I was pliant, and he was rigid.

On a growl, he clamped my throat with his teeth and drove even deeper. So deep, I swore he’d tear right through me.

Oh, God, it hurt, but I didn’t care. I wanted it. Him. Even if I had to take his fury and rage, I didn’t give a damn in that moment. I missed him. His touch. His scent. Everything.

Face buried in my neck, he wrapped his arms around me, so tight, I could scarcely draw in a breath, and he fucked me against the wall like a rutting stag.

It didn’t take long for my arousal to lubricate his every glide. I must’ve been sick for allowing him to take me that way.

For enjoying it.

And I did. I enjoyed every inch that he was willing to give.

Palm to my throat, he squeezed just enough to part my lips. “Who translated it?” He growled the words, still thrusting into me. He was sadly mistaken if he thought I’d actually come clean with the name.

“No one,” I rasped.

“Who. Fucking. Translated it?” He squeezed tighter, one hand at my throat, the other hiking my thigh up onto his hip. The fullness of his cock buried deep inside of me, coupled to the dizzying lack of oxygen, made for a deliciously toxic concoction.

“It doesn’t …” My breath hitched in my chest with the merciless thrust of his hips. “Matter …” Another thrust. “Now.”

At my first moan, he shuddered around me, and upped his pace.

“Fuck. Fuck!” Releasing my throat, he wrapped my legs around his waist and held me pinned to the wall as he drove into me with furious determination. “Stubborn,” he gritted out.

I tipped my head back, focusing on the tiny sparks of electricity that warmed me from the inside out, the intense vibrations that tickled my core. It felt deliriously good. Lip between my teeth, I rolled my head against the wall and moaned again. My thighs trembled around him, every muscle wound tight. I slipped into mindless, exquisite pleasure, my body enslaved to his every whim. Fingers digging between his shoulder blades, I felt his muscles flex beneath my palms. The electricity where his wing slits must’ve been pulsed into me, the current heightening my sense of touch.

He took hold of my wrist, pinning it hard against the wall. Hot breath beat against my skin. The anger trapped inside of him pummeled through me with every punishing drive, until my belly curled, and I was soaking wet.

I jerked against him as the orgasm pounded through me, wave after wave of climax that shattered inside of me. He tensed and shuddered and squeezed my hair so hard, I thought he’d rip it from my scalp. Hot jets of cum shot up with me and dribbled down my thigh.

He remained motionless inside me. Just breathing. Deep and heavy breaths, a testament that we were both still very much alive.

“Tell me I didn’t hurt you.” Even through the ragged drag of his voice, the remorse carried thick in his tone. “Fucking hell, if I hurt you, I’d—"

“You didn’t hurt me.” As if anything could ever hurt me again. What I felt in that moment was far from pain. It was relief. The kind of relief that had me sagging against him.

He stroked a hand down my hair and gripped tight, tipping my head back for a kiss. Nothing more than a simple kiss, and yet, my stomach fluttered as if he’d shot a cannon of butterflies into me. “Why did you do it?”

The answer was simple enough, but his question left me in a state of perplexing emotion. I didn’t know how to feel. I wanted to be tough and tell him to go to hell for asking such a stupid question, but both of us had already been there and back. “What do you mean, why?”

“You damned your own soul to bring me back.”

“And you wouldn’t have done the same?”

He lifted his head from my neck and snarled, gripping my chin. “You know I would’ve. But this is you. Not me.” When he pulled out of me, I felt the cold disconnection frost over my skin. The intimacy and touch I longed for, ripped away from me like a winter storm. The hem of my nightgown fell back down my body. Cupping his exposed flesh with both hands, he nodded toward my stomach and frowned. “The moment that child is born, you will become cambion. And you will be hunted.”

Something cold and dark stirred inside of me. A bitterness that had no place here in this moment, but I couldn’t swallow it back. I couldn’t tamp it down. Too many pent-up emotions clashed inside my head at the same time. “I’ve been hunted my whole life. And you know what? You’re not the only one who gets to sacrifice.”

He rubbed his hand down his face, drawing my attention to the muscles in his arms. How badly I wanted, needed, to be wrapped in them. To feel that reassuring embrace. “I chose my fate.”

“Yeah. So I heard. Well, I chose mine, too.” At that annoyingly unyielding stare that he’d apparently perfected, even in death, I shook my head. “I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve suffered since that night. I don’t want to think about the loneliness, the fear, the hopelessness. But I’ve suffered, too. And though mine was in broad daylight, surrounded by constant noise and life, it was no less crippling.”

As if I’d slapped him with a realization he hadn’t considered, he flinched.

“So many nights, I have dreamed of that look on your face, just before the flames consumed you.” I hated that my eyes stung with tears, that I risked breaking into emotion when the anger and frustration sizzled inside of me. “I would wake up screaming, searching for you in the dark. Searching for the reassurance that it was nothing but a nightmare. And every night for months, I suffered the incapacitating reality that you really were gone.” Even as I stared back at him, standing in the middle of my room, I could feel that same anxiety wash over me, the fear that had become as much a part of my life as breathing.? “Every day, I relived that moment on the cliff. Every day, I felt the heat of those flames on my skin, and the stomach-churning scent of your burning flesh in the air.” I broke. I finally broke into tears, and no matter how quickly I wiped them away, more fell. “So, don’t you ask me why! I’d have damned my soul a thousand times, if it meant your return!”

Months of misery tore from my chest on a sob, and as my knees turned weak with the pain, he reached out and lifted me into his arms. For the first time in months, I felt weightless. The warmth and strength I’d mourned for far too long somehow seeped beneath my skin. Like stepping out into the sunlight again after hours and days, months of absolute darkness. I tightened my grip around him, and the trembles in my body from before turned into full blown shivering. Not from cold, but fear. The stifling fear that he could slip from my grasp at any second had me clutching to him like a child.

There was a time, not long ago, when I questioned what I was capable of sacrificing for someone. What I’d be willing to give in exchange for a single moment. The answer was, aside from the life that I carried within me, everything.

All the years of desperately trying to comprehend my father’s obsession, his pain, his suffering, over my mother’s death, culminated into complete understanding. It took Jericho’s death, watching his life fade before my eyes, to realize just how much I loved him. And how absolutely devastating and vulnerable the heart could be.

“I had no other choice.” I hardened my jaw, stubborn and unmoved in my decision. It was my soul to damn, after all. Not his. “I gave up my soul, you gave up your wings and died. I’d say we’re even.”

Finger hooked beneath my chin, he lifted my face to his, and my scowl dissolved as I stared into a fierce winter blue eye. “I never wanted to leave you alone, Farryn. Giving up my wings was the only way I could get to you.”

“I know why you did it. But I refused to accept that you were gone. I told myself it’d get easier over time, but the days just got darker and darker. Until I couldn’t see the light anymore. I’ve been living in a starless galaxy, drifting through the pitch black cold, in hopes of finding life again. So, don’t be mad at me. Please.” I reached up to touch his face, but hesitated.

He swiped up my hand and set my palm to his cheek, and his eye fluttered shut for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed your touch.” Lowering my hand to his lips, he kissed my palm. “There is no hell worse than being apart from you.”

He lowered his hand to my belly, resting his palm against the still-flat surface that housed his child. As if sensing his presence, the baby kicked, and Jericho smiled, the sight of it setting my whole world aflame.

“The baby knows you, somehow,” I said, smiling. “I didn’t think I’d be feeling movement for a couple more months, but I feel everything. Particularly when I think or speak of you.”

Lowering to his knees before me, he pressed his face to my nightgown and kissed my belly. “Hey there, little one. It seems you’ve grown quite a bit over the last few months. I wish you could see how beautiful your mother looks right now. How utterly breathtaking she is.” He lifted his gaze to mine, before turning his attention back to my belly. “Hear my voice. Remember it. For when we meet, I want you to know it’s your father who looks upon you in awe.” He pressed his lips to my belly, pulling me into his body.

The ache in my chest throbbed, as tears gathered in my eyes. Was it possible to feel too much love? To die from the pressure of a chest so full, so completely whole? As if my heart had been stitched back together with thicker threads, I could feel it beating inside of me again. More powerful than before.

Jericho pushed to his feet, scooped me up into his arms, and carried me to the bed, where he laid me down against the pillows. With a gentle hand, he gripped my chin and kissed me with the kind of white-hot passion that turned my insides soft and weak.

He climbed onto the bed behind me and pulled me into his body. For a moment, the world felt whole again, even if neither of us would ever truly be whole. For now, the fissures in my heart had sealed together, and the pain softened. Yet, in spite of my contented bliss, a somber undercurrent remained. The reminder of how much we’d lost, how much we’d changed in such a short time. How easily life could be taken. Extinguished.

Every moment with him was a gift. Every second that didn’t end on a harrowing scream and an empty room was a blessing that I would never take for granted again. I curled into him, breathing in the scent of his skin, as I listened to the steady and calming beat of his heart. A sound I’d missed.

“They’ll hunt you here.” In feather-light traces, he drew his fingers up my spine.?“The Sentinels. Once you become cambion, they’ll have no reason to let you live. They’ll come for me, as well.”

“That’s what Drystan meant. When he said this wasn’t over.”

“Yes. I’ve mocked them by coming back from Ex Nihilo.” Still caressing my back, his brows furrowed in thought. “They’ll not let this slide. I’ll find a way, though. A loophole to redeem your soul.”

“How?”

“By finding the demon who owns it when you turn.”

“Demon who owns it? Like … like a slaveowner?”

“Yes. And depending on the demon, it could be worse than hell itself. Between him and the Sentinels, that’s a whole lot of fuckery to deal with.”

“After what we’ve been through in the last few months, I am no longer afraid.”

With a weary smile, he cupped my cheek. “My dangerous little Tu’Nazhja.” The smile on his face faded to a sobering expression. “While the Pentacrux was no small threat, I’m afraid they pale in comparison to the Sentinels.”

“I don’t regret what I did, Jericho. I will never regret my love for you.” I ran my thumb across his bottom lip, watching him kiss it. “Drystan said one of them was out for you. It’s why they took me. To hand me over to them and hurt you.”

“They’ll never have you, as long as I breathe. Should they come, every one of them will die.”

“Without your wings?”

“Much of my power remains. I can still feel the current running through me. It is weak, but it will grow stronger as I heal.”

“I’ll not lose you again. Not to them, or anyone.” Pushing up onto my elbow, I stared down at him. “Let’s go back. To Nightshade. We’ll find my father. According to Drystan, he translated the Omni. He can restore your wings.”

“You would leave this place? Your home? Your life?”

“This isn’t my home. And my life is with you.”

“Even if we track him down, the chances of your father remembering a lifetime of his work is slim.” When he turned away from me, I pressed my palm against his cheek and guided his face back to mine.

“Is it only the Fallen who can reverse time and bring him back?”

“I can, as well. But I don’t know what that means for you and me. If your father returns to before having sought me out in Nightshade, it could mean everything between the two of us would dissolve. Too many things were tied to his being there. It was the very reason you sought out Nightshade.”

Resting my hand against my belly, I frowned at that. “Everything would dissolve?”

His hand covered mine. “Yes.”

I couldn’t even imagine such a thing. So much life had transpired in such a short time. It sickened me to think that, if Drystan had accomplished finding my father first, he could’ve found a way to return with him. Erased everything. “Even if we don’t reverse time and bring him back, searching for him is better than sitting here waiting for them to hunt us.”

With a huff, he pushed back a strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “It’d certainly be easier to protect you there. To keep you and the baby safe.”

“Would the crossing hurt the baby?”

“No. I would protect both of you.”

“You don’t require your wings for that?”

“It wasn’t the wings themselves that offered protection to you, but the current which runs through me.”

“You’re saying the electricity would offer me protection from dissolving into thin air?”

His lips curved to a smile. “It’s more than just electricity, darling. It is vitaeilem. The life blood of angels.” Just as a moment ago, the smile on his face faded once again to something more somber. “Without my wings, it will require a different method of traversing planes, though.”

“Which is?”

“Water. While your body would remain intact, if you should panic, there is a chance you could drown.”

“Nothing can just be simple, can it?” Running a hand through my hair, I blew an exasperated exhale and shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m still doing it. It’s still better than waiting to be hunted. We’ll return and find my father.”

He reached up and gripped my nape, giving a firm squeeze. “You just have to trust me. Trust that I would never hurt you.”

“Always.”

The corner of his lips lifted once more with a smile. “Then, I will take you home.” Wrapping his arms around me, he pulled me on top of his body, seating me against the hard planes of his stomach. “Gods, you are a vision of perfection.”

Cheeks warm, I smiled. “I think you need to redefine the meaning of perfection.”

“No, little tu’nazhja. It’s you who needs to redefine its meaning.” With a tug of my arms, he pulled me into his lips and enveloped me in his warm embrace. Held tight against him, I couldn’t move, as he gripped my hair and kissed me to the point of breathlessness. “I cannot be without you again,” he rasped, just before his teeth sank into the crook of my neck, drawing me back into the space of wanting him all over again.

One hand to my throat, the other took hold of my aching breast. The deep, penetrating massage of his fingers shot pulses of ecstasy through me, and I arched into him, coaxing him for more. “There’s a violence inside of me, Farryn. A toxic poison that needs release. You are the blade to my vein. The calm to a storm that never stops raging. You always were.” He kissed the spot he’d bitten only moments before. “Without you, I fear what it would do to me. You are the only thing which tempers me.”

“And I’m not going anywhere.”

“No. You’re not.” With one hand lodged in my hair, he squeezed my ass, grinding me against his already hard length. “You and I are going to feed on each other’s wounds. We’re going to fuck until all the pain is gone. Only then can we ever be free of it.”

Dizzy and drunk with lust, I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, visualizing the image he’d planted in my mind.

When I lifted my lids again, a sharp breath caught in my throat on seeing jagged threads of electricity dancing over his one blue eye.

“Even if I never restore my wings, and I’m never fully whole again, when they come for us, I will fight for you. I will fight until my last breath, and I will give up the world for you again and again. Only for you,” he said, in a voice so resolute, there was little room for doubt.

Tears wobbled in my eyes. “I wouldn’t let you.”

As the tear spilled out onto my cheek, he thumbed it away. “My love for you will never fade. Not even when this wretched world ceases to exist and the sun dies out to an everlasting darkness. My life, my soul. It is yours eternally.”

“And mine is yours.” I pressed my lips to his, sealing the vow in my heart. “This love has survived centuries. No matter what happens, or who tries to tear us apart, we are in this together.”

* * *

BOOK 2 IS COMING SOON!

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