~Bezaliel~

  “Dayton?” Monroe asked uncertainly as she drew cautiously closer to the three of us.

  I looked up at her blankly. I wasn’t in shock. I was just assimilating a lot of information at once. I noticed the sun hung low behind Monroe’s back and my gaze moved to her face. She read the question there.

  “They’ve spotted the Demons. It will be soon,” she answered. I nodded wearily. Monroe’s gaze scanned the area.

  “Lexi?” she asked simply. I think she knew what had happened. A petulant Luther, a shirtless Marcas, and a black stain on the grass between them didn’t leave much to the imagination. Monroe’s eyes locked with Luther’s. A look passed between them. She turned back to me.

  “We need to move,” she said softly. Marcas and Luther made their way over to us, and I pulled Marcas’ shirt away from my neck.

  “I’m assuming you two still plan to go after the ring,” Monroe said as I handed the shirt back to Marcas. He took it gingerly before suddenly making it disappear. Another shirt, a clean one, appeared in his hand and he pulled it over his head. 

  “You know about the ring?” I asked carefully. 

  “I told her,” Luther said as we all began to move toward the house. I looked between the two warily. Monroe stared at the ground.

  “She can help us,” Luther defended.

  I didn’t argue with him there. I was more worried about the connection I’d seen pass between the two of them. I’d had my fill of Demon related problems. I wanted to say something but decided not to go there. Time was short. Luther stopped suddenly, his gaze finding Monroe's and then Marcas.'

  "I take my leave here, brother. This is not my fight. Not yet," Luther said. Marcas nodded as Monroe and I both watched them solemnly. Luther turned to us and bowed.

  "Ladies, it has been a pleasure," he said with a smirk. I knew he was lying, but it was no less charming. Monroe watched him with an unreadable expression as I reached out and touched his hand.

  "Thank you," I said seriously. He may be a Demon, but he had helped us. And I had killed his sister. I wanted to apologize but there were no words big enough. He backed away, his eyes finding Monroe's a moment before Marcas nudged us.

  "Walk," Marcas ordered. We obeyed. A "whooshing" noise sounded behind us, and I knew Luther had taken flight. I started to reach for Monroe, but she surprised me by taking my hand firmly in hers.

  “Take this,” she said unexpectedly, her voice shaking. I knew she'd not wanted to see Luther go, but she brushed it aside with a cool composure only Monroe could pull off. She handed me a necklace made of twine with a small piece of clear quartz hanging from its center. I took it.

  “It’s charmed,” she said sheepishly. 

  I smiled at her. I had never believed much in charms, spells, or potions but the experiences I’d had recently vastly changed my opinion. Anything seemed possible at this point. I fastened it carefully around my neck. It felt warm. I took Monroe's hand in mine and squeezed.

  “They’re approaching,” Ethan Jacobs announced as we stepped into the house.

  I shivered. I wasn’t sure I was up to the battle I knew was coming. I saw Mrs. Jacobs gather with her Coven in the foyer. With a piece of chalk, she began drawing a circle at the foot of the grand staircase. People were running everywhere.

  “There’s at least a hundred,” a man yelled from across the house.

  I glanced at Marcas. A hundred? The Demon ranks had grown. Another voice replied to the man’s yell in Italian, and I looked up to find Alessandro hurrying down the stairs. He motioned at the blonde woman we’d met the night before. She rushed to him, and he whispered something into her ear. She went running. Alessandro looked up and caught our eyes.

  “You will stay on these grounds within sight of my people, Demonio. You and the Angel,” Alessandro ordered as he hurried to the back entrance.

  Everyone was ready for a fight. Some even looked excited. I just wanted to hide.

  “Are you okay?” a male voice asked softly, and I turned around to see Conor leaning casually against the wall beside us. I hadn’t heard him approach over the noise in the house. I nodded.

  "It’s going to be a big night, Red."

  Our eyes were locked. I nodded again.

  “Be careful,” he warned.

  I knew he was aware of our intent. I stepped toward him.

  “Do you know how to fight these things, Con?” I asked hesitantly.

  I didn’t want to seem too worried about his welfare, but I was. He smiled the kind of smile that made Conor the boy I loved in so many different ways.  With one corner of his lips curled upward and his eyes shining bright, I could read a touch of humor mixed with mischief. It made me smile. He never failed to do that.

  “I’m a sight to behold,” he bragged as he wagged his brows flirtatiously. I actually found myself laughing.

  “I don’t doubt that," I said with a chuckle. Someone shouted his name and he looked up.

  “That’s my cue,” he said as he pushed away from the wall. I reached out and touched his arm carefully. He paused and looked down at me.

  “Please be careful, Con."

  He grinned and winked at me. Neither one of us mentioned the kiss we’d shared or talked about feelings expressed and unexpressed. We just smiled at each other. Sometimes the best farewell is the kind you can laugh at. Conor wasn’t a boy anymore.

  “As you wish, Red. Gargoyles have a knack for this kind of thing. When this is over, I’ll introduce you to what we can do,” Conor said lightly.

  I nodded. We weren’t saying goodbye. The ring was the next step. After that, I fully intended to take him up on his offer.

  “I look forward to it,” I murmured as Conor’s name was called again. He started to walk away, but I pulled him toward me for a quick hug before finally letting go. There was no need for words.

  “Don't let him die,” I prayed as I watched him fade into the group of people gathering at the entrance. The lawn would be full of warriors. We were as ready as were going to get. I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  “Keep low, Day,” Monroe pleaded.

  I looked up to find her eyes shrouded with tears. My throat closed up. I hadn’t had the time I wanted with her today and I was feeling the hollowness that came with fearing for someone else’s life. I had brought Monroe into this. If something happened, I wasn’t sure I could forgive myself. I watched her with regret.

  “Don’t, Day!” Monroe said fiercely as she slapped my arm hard. I winced at the sting.

  “I know that look, Dayton Marie. Drop the guilt. I would have been involved in this even if you had tied me up and thrown me into a padlocked cement box. It’s been a journey full of revelations for us both. And it’s just the beginning. Besides, two of the bad guys are hot,” Monroe whispered with a wink.

  I tried to laugh, but I couldn't. The first tear of the battle fell, leaving a track on my dust covered cheek. Just the beginning. And yet I was so ready for the end.

  It’s time,” a voice said from behind us, and I turned to find Mrs. Jacobs watching us wistfully.

  I think she knew we’d both had to deal with feelings of betrayal. Despite that, I envied Monroe her mother. I hugged Mrs. Jacobs hard without warning and she patted me on the back of the head. Monroe took my hand.

  “Good luck,” I whispered.

  A sob escaped Monroe. I let go of Mrs. Jacobs and stepped away from the two of them.

  “She’s a good mom, Roe, and you are more sister to me than friend."

  Monroe smiled despite her tears.

  “I know,” she said. “And ditto.”

  Mrs. Jacobs took her daughter’s hand. The Coven beckoned at them both, and I nodded at Lita. She smiled and winked.

  “It’ll be over before you know it,” Mrs. Jacobs said as she led Monroe away.

  I smiled despite my doubt. I wasn’t sure it’d ever be over for me.

  “Time to go, Blainey,” Marcas said coldly from behind m
e, and I turned with a sigh.

  “No way out of it, huh?” I asked half-heartedly.

  “Death,” Marcas answered.

  I scowled while shoving away the tear that still clung stubbornly to my cheek. He couldn’t be comforting just this once? I gave him a look.

  “I never saw any point in cushioning the truth,” Marcas said as he took me by the elbow and led me through the crowd. A few glanced curiously our way. I avoided as many gazes as I could.

  “Where are we going?” I hissed as Marcas made his way stealthily to a living area on the first floor.

  The first level didn’t end with the foyer and parlor. The house extended backward almost as far as it extended upward, and the living area we suddenly found ourselves in was awe-inspiring because of its main feature: a floor to ceiling picture window facing the vineyard I’d spotted earlier.  Marcas stopped in front of the glass and stared. I came to stand next to him.

  “Use your night vision, Blainey,” Marcas ordered, and I looked at him a moment warily before complying.

  It was dusk outside. There was still light visible above the trees and even more so in the vineyards. It made it possible to see without using any special abilities, but it was getting difficult. I wrapped my light around my eyes and opened them slowly. I hadn’t even had a chance to focus when Marcas put a hand steadily on my shoulder.

  “Now look straight out across the vineyard,” he said.

  I looked out into the dark, my gaze searching the beautiful land in front of us and had to fight not to scream. I just managed not to bite my tongue. I grabbed a handful of Marcas’ shirt.

  “Can we do this?” I asked frantically.

  What I saw could never be described properly. There were creatures, maybe a hundred of them, marching our way. And each one of them was more grotesque than the others. I couldn’t make out minute details, but I knew from that one glance that none of these Demons looked like Marcas or Luther. They were the kind of creatures you’d imagine hiding under your bed as a child, the very reason I still kept a nightlight in my room.

  “There’s no choice,” Marcas answered.

  He didn’t push me away, and I took advantage of his sudden acquiescence. The bond had forced me away from the friends I was comfortable with and forced me to trust and endure a creature I’d normally run from. Our time together had been short so far, but the things we’d endured had made me feel differently about him. I didn’t want to examine the feelings too closely, but I did know it didn’t feel wrong to seek comfort from him. I did so now and, as long as he wasn’t pushing me away, I’d continue to do so.

  I scooted in closer and stared across the vineyard. I wanted to look away, but this was one of those incidences where looking away almost seemed worse than facing it.

  “And they are all looking for me,” I said hopelessly.

  I was the reason the people on our side were fighting. They were protecting me while I was lying to them. The SOS was going to lose lives while I was stealing the artifacts that gave them their cause, their existence. My heart couldn’t take the idea.

  “I’d rather die,” I whispered.

  I felt a vibration move through Marcas’ body and his skin warmed. I looked up carefully and saw his jaw tighten. I’d come to recognize that as a sign he was keeping his emotions in check. Tightening his jaw was the same thing as me biting my tongue.

  “Your existence is more important than you think,” Marcas said tightly. I shook my head.

  “Only as long as I’m bonded to you. Everyone’s afraid of the two of us together, they are afraid of what we could create, what we could be if we mixed our powers,” I said grimly.

  If I wasn’t who I was and I hadn’t been bonded to Marcas, then this wouldn’t be happening. I blamed myself. It was hard not to, especially when Monroe had warned me something was wrong and, from that first night, I had ignored the signs.

  “I’m as much a cause of this as you are,” Marcas said calmly.

  I wanted his calmness. Needed it. It seemed wrong that he was the one feeling it. I stared out the window. The creatures were so much closer.

  “But it’s me they want dead,” I pointed out.

  Marcas looked down at me.

  “They want you dead because, whether they want to admit it or not, the bond is only a small part of why they want you destroyed. You are a rare occurrence, Blainey. A Nephilim has never been born that wasn’t tainted with cursed blood. Not only were you created because of the love an Angel had for a mortal woman, but you were born from a line of people blessed by God. As the first, there is nothing known about what you could be capable of. There is nothing known about what being what you are could mean to the rest of us,” Marcas said as he looked back out the window. I watched his face a moment.

  “I couldn’t possibly be stronger than any of you. I’m half human,” I whispered.

  I watched as Marcas' shoulders lifted wearily.

  “And yet you created a wall of light that you not only managed to pull from your body but that protected you once it was out,” Marcas said.

  I shook my head. I still didn’t understand. All Angels had the light, didn’t they? Marcas looked down again.

  “Angels have powers they use without trying. All of it comes from the light. What’s unique about yours is that, even though you have to work at it, it responds to you differently than it would to an Angel or a Demon. It not only lets you use it, it almost becomes an ambient being that will protect you at all costs. It’s like having a separate guardian Angel within your body. Ours doesn’t work that way. We use our powers to protect ourselves. They don’t become ambient enough to protect us on their own. And you were able to feed that ambient power into a Demon. The power then took it upon itself to destroy her. Even without me, you would be feared."

  I stared at him dumbly. The information was hard to take in. If he thought what he told me would help make me feel less guilty, he was wrong. I was still the cause of this fight and realized, rather belatedly, that I still would be blameworthy without the bond. I had just been safer before this. The bond had brought me to my enemies’ attention. 

  I looked past the Demon hoard at the dim horizon. We still needed the ring. Unbinding us could mean allowing me the chance to hide or at least finding supporters who respected me, and who would fight with me. We didn’t need more factions on earth. There was enough of that between Heaven and Hell. I looked back out the window. The creatures were close enough now, I could see the drool coming out of their mouths, the glare their eyes made in the dark, the different colors, horns, and  pitted skin that made each Demon unique. Marcas backed away from the window.

  “Time to fight,” he said.

  I shivered. Marcas suddenly pulled my hands away from his shirt but he didn’t put them down. He held them tightly.

  “You won’t die tonight, Blainey. I promise you that,” he said with a conviction I didn’t feel.

  I stared at him. His face was still expressionless. Was he just trying to save himself? Did I care? I nodded and we moved out of the room. The Coven in the foyer was busy murmuring chants and moving in their circle. I could feel the power rising.

  The members of the SOS who remained in the house had equipment that revealed they were medical professionals. They were preparing a makeshift hospital. My heart sank.

  “These are Lilith’s Demons,” a man said suddenly, his voice full of awe. Alessandro stood near the door. Dressed down from previously, he was holding a sword.

  Marcas and I joined him before moving into the night. I heard screams in the distance. Some sounded human, some didn’t. I knew then the ones on the front line were already engaged in battle. I had to keep reminding myself that it could be worse. There could be way more than a hundred Demons. If there had been, we’d have been finished. But this was just the beginning.

  “Are you willing to fight your mother?” I heard Alessandro ask Marcas.

  “I have before, Ander. Many times,” Marcas
answered.

  Neither one of us were handed weapons. There was no reason. Our bodies provided that for us. I was suddenly glad Marcas had taught me how to shield. I’d only managed one well-completed attack this afternoon, and it had been a killing one. I wasn’t sure I could handle another kill. My soul already hurt badly.

  “She was a Demon!” I told myself angrily.

  Did that matter? Did killing someone because they were on the wrong team make it right? I was so confused.

  “Get ready. Blainey. And don’t leave my side,” I heard Marcas say as I took the stance he’d taught me.

  I’d barely gotten into position when I saw the first angry creatures come our way. I grabbed for my light.

  Chapter 34

  Lilith is angry. Whether this anger is because she is afraid of the Naphil brought into her midst or her son’s bond with the half Angel is not known. One fact remains: She will see the Naphil dead.