Shadows in the Silence

  But Merodach was wrong. I would never allow him to take all that I knew away from me. I had to survive. I had to kill him and protect everyone and everything I loved. All of the beasts of Hell knew they couldn’t stop me. I was the archangel Gabriel, the Preliator, and they knew that no matter how many times they killed me, I always came back to kill them. No matter how much they frightened me, I remembered what Cadan had told me about the stories of me he had grown up hearing. Even demons feared something. The demonic reapers had nightmares of their own, stories they told one another to terrify, a legend that haunted them in their sleep. That was me. I was Hell’s nightmare.

  I charged at him, slashing my Khopesh blades and splitting his skin with silver and angelfire. He drew his double-bladed sword to counter my attacks, but I was fast and determined. Merodach backed toward the wreckage in the road as I drove him, shoving my power into each sword strike. With a rage-filled cry, I leaped into the air, kicking off the hood of a car to send me higher, and I smashed my boot into the reaper’s face. He hit the ground hard before I even landed, but was back on his feet in a flash. The instant he lifted his blade, I slammed him with another blast of my energy, a lightning strike of white light, and he soared, roaring, through the air.

  Merodach landed heavily on the pavement and skidded to a stop while cars raced past him. The driver of a sedan blared the horn before swerving to avoid him at the last minute and almost sideswiping one of the immobile wrecked cars. Merodach got to his feet and I threw my power at him, knocking him back off his feet. He rolled on the ground and howled in rage as he rose again. I could feel his power building almost exponentially, gathering strength like a tidal wave. Even from the sidewalk where I stood, I could see the pure, undiluted fury in his blinding eyes.

  Merodach crossed the lanes as he stomped toward me and another car came rushing down the street, but he didn’t give it a chance to swerve. His power detonated in a burst of shadows and smoke and he lashed out behind himself in anger, smashing the bottom of his fist into the grill of the car. The force behind his blow sent the car careening through the air above his head and it slammed upside down into the road with a shriek of metal against pavement. I gasped in horror, praying for signs of life. When no one emerged from the debris, Merodach stepped up to the car and kicked the frame, sending it sliding and screeching over the curb and out of the street. The humans who had tried to help ran in the opposite direction or tumbled to the ground in fear.

  “Freeze!”

  The command came from a few yards down the sidewalk, accompanied by the shuffling of footsteps and click-clacking of a firearm. I spun to find a police officer with her gun drawn and pointed at the demonic reaper. Her cruiser, lights flashing, was parked across multiple lanes to stop anymore traffic. My heart pounded. If one cop was here, then more would arrive very soon.

  “Drop the weapons, hands behind your head,” she ordered.

  It took me a moment to realize that meant me. I was the one standing there with flaming swords in both of my hands. Merodach was the only bad thing here, but the officer didn’t know that. With my entire body trembling, I let the angelfire die and I placed my swords on the ground before raising my hands. I really didn’t want to get shot again.

  “You.” She gestured with her head for Merodach to get out of the road. “On the grass. Hands on the ground.”

  He just stared at her with a blank look and didn’t move.

  “Hands on the ground!” she repeated, her voice breaking with fear.

  “Merodach,” I called to him, hoping he would ignore the officer, but after what he’d done at Josie’s house, I didn’t think he would. No innocent humans needed to get mixed up in this mess. The demonic reaper ignored me and I felt my pulse quicken. I had to try and talk him into taking this fight someplace else. I considered running. If he wanted the grimoire and to take me to Sammael, then he had to follow me, but I couldn’t risk bolting and leaving the bystanders defenseless. Will was taking on the last of Merodach’s reapers and I was on my own here.

  “Merodach,” I repeated more firmly. I stepped back on my heel, bracing myself to dive for my swords if he attacked. “Forget about the humans. If you want me, then come for me.”

  The demonic reaper’s eyes flashed with his power and his sleek, double-bladed sword rippled into existence.

  “Drop the weapon!” the cop shrieked.

  Merodach ignored her and started toward me, swinging his sword, and I dived to sweep my own off the ground.

  “I will fire!”

  “Don’t shoot him!” I cried at the officer, trying to warn her. “You’ll only anger him!”

  Her gun moved back and forth between the reaper and me, and she cursed under her breath about her missing backup. Merodach raised his sword at me and the cop fired. The bullet slammed into his chest and he didn’t even miss a beat. The cop swore again, this time loud with fear, and she shot a second bullet right between Merodach’s eyes. His head snapped back and he stopped in place, but he didn’t fall. He straightened slowly, anger twisting his features, and he turned his gaze to the police officer as a line of blood rolled down his nose.

  “What the hell are you?” she whimpered, eyes wide. There was no doubt she now realized that the wings and horns weren’t part of a costume.

  Merodach moved so fast that I lost him for an instant. Suddenly he was right behind the cop, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back. She shrieked and shot a wild bullet, but he was unfazed.

  “No!” I stepped toward him, but stopped myself. If I made a move to save her, he’d kill her for certain. I was the one he wanted, not this frightened young woman. I began to walk backward very slowly. Sirens belonging to police, ambulances, and fire trucks wailed in the distance, growing closer every second.

  “If you run,” Merodach crooned, “I’ll rip her head off.”

  “Why are you even wasting your time with her?” I asked him. “Your fight’s with me.”

  He gave me a thoughtful look and said, “You’re right.”

  His jaws spread so wide they cracked and seemed to dislocate like a snake’s, and then he chomped down hard on the woman’s neck. Blood showered from her wound, soaking everything close to her with red, and she gargled and choked through her own screams. I nearly threw up when Merodach ripped his jaws away, taking with him the fleshy majority of the woman’s neck, and he gulped it down. Her head drooped over her shoulder, hanging on by a few strips of skin and ligaments, her mouth gaping as she died midscream. The reaper tossed the limp, still leaking body to the ground. The gun clattered across the pavement.

  I couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe—from the horror of what I’d just seen. The remaining people watching the fight all shrieked and ran in every direction, finally finding the sense to get out of there. I wasn’t sure if the reaper had consumed enough to take the woman’s soul, but I prayed that she had been spared Hell at least.

  “Why?” I asked Merodach.

  He licked his lips and sighed as if the gore on his face was delicious. “Because you didn’t want me to.”

  I let out an exhausted cry of fury and swore as loud as I could. “I’m going to rip you apart!”

  I launched myself off the ground, swinging my swords. He knocked my arms away, gliding past my swords, and he backhanded me in the face. I hit the ground with a pained grunt and he grasped me by the neck before I could do anything. He lifted me until my feet were dangling in the air and he squeezed my throat, but I kept struggling. I wouldn’t let him strangle me. I couldn’t let him take me to Sammael.

  I summoned my power, pulling everything I had from those dark depths that I was so afraid of, tapping into the infinite well of strength given to me in Heaven. I stared into Merodach’s ever-brightening eyes as the torrent of energy circled us both, lifting my hair and lighting the red streaks like wild flames. I slammed my power into him and he gritted his teeth against the force, but he didn’t release my throat. I threw energy into him a second time, but still he h
eld on, even when I kept pushing and pushing at him until he was practically hanging on to me or else he’d be blown away. When I summoned my archangel glory, I became aware that I was screaming—a raspy, desperate wail—as everything was drowned in white, hot light. The glory boiled Merodach’s skin, his hands burning red where he gripped my neck, and soon he was roaring with pain and effort. My glory flared, setting his hands ablaze. His face, twisted with wrath and agony, started to sizzle and his skin split into strips of charred gashes that cut through the scar I had given him the night Sammael was released.

  “I cannot let you go,” Merodach wheezed as his lips were cut and burned.

  “I will make you,” I rasped and cried out as my power exploded.

  Everything I had in me slammed into the demonic reaper, drowning his entire form in energy and glory until he released my throat and disappeared with a scream. He blew away from me and was sent tumbling into the road. His claws left jagged white streaks in the asphalt as he ground to a halt. Merodach picked himself up, his body covered with open wounds and raw burns.

  “I won’t let you destroy anything else that I care about,” I swore, and pulled my energy back into myself and marched toward him. “Your life of killing and reaping is over.”

  Appearing out of nowhere and drenched in blood, Will pounded his fist into Merodach’s jaw so hard he knocked the demonic reaper off his feet, cracking his back into the road. Will called his sword and slammed it into Merodach’s chest, staking him to the pavement. Merodach roared, spitting blood as red pooled on the ground beneath him. What skin of his that had been shredded and charred by my glory was unable to heal from the angelic power. He hissed at Will and gnashed his teeth, tugging uselessly at the giant blade, but he only cut deep slices into his hands. Wounds that should have healed in seconds struggled to knit the skin back together. By the calm look on Merodach’s face, he seemed to understand that he was about to die.

  I waited to see if Will wished to fulfill his oath to take Merodach’s life. Both of us had a claim to revenge now, but the image of Merodach’s sword buried in Nathaniel’s heart had haunted us since the night it happened.

  Will and I exchanged looks and I gave him a slow nod, acknowledging that I wanted him to have this kill. Will shoved his boot into Merodach’s rib cage and tugged his sword from the reaper’s chest. Merodach shuddered and moaned, gagging on his own blood.

  Will, splashed with blood that mostly belonged to others, pressed the sword’s tip to the demonic reaper’s neck. Wounds that streaked across his face, arms, and chest healed quickly. “You came here with a force of over two dozen and still you were outnumbered.”

  Merodach laughed, a horrible wheezing sound. “You can’t stop Sammael. You think you know what you have to do to beat us, but it will take your lives.”

  “The words of a dead man mean nothing to me,” Will snarled. He buried the blade through muscle and bone, severing Merodach’s head. His skin hardened to stone and within seconds, the demonic reaper’s remains resembled very little of the beast he’d once been.

  For a few moments, neither of us moved or spoke. We were paralyzed by surprise and relief to have this great enemy dead at our feet. We stared at Merodach’s remains as if we expected his pieces to glue themselves back together and rise to continue the fight. When they didn’t, I let my swords disappear and I touched Will’s shoulder. He was frozen solid. I put my other hand to his chest and looked up into his face. The wailing sirens let us know that the police had to be just blocks away now.

  “Will,” I murmured to him softly. I moved my hand up to touch his cheek and gently turned his face to mine. His crystalline green eyes blazed back at me. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay now.”

  With that, the tension washed away from him like the receding tide and he pulled me into his arms, hugging me close. I buried my face into his chest, soaking in his warmth and comfort. He held me for so achingly long that I almost forgot everything that had happened. I pulled myself out of his arms and turned to gaze toward the carnage Merodach had caused, at all the bodies littering the ground.

  “It’s not your fault,” he whispered into my ear. “Merodach did this.”

  “But it’s not fair. There shouldn’t have been collateral.”

  “The only thing we can do is stop the demonic from hurting anyone else,” Will said.

  He was right. While Merodach’s death gave us a sense of relief, having avenged the deaths of our friends, things almost didn’t feel that much different. His death was a stepping stone. There was still so much more to be done.

  “We should get out of here,” he said. “We can’t get caught up with the police.”

  He took my hand and guided me back to my car. The hood was caved in, but the engine started up with no trouble. We drove away, but I stared into the mirror long after the battle site faded into the night.

  15

  WILL AND I WERE QUIET FOR THE REST OF THE drive home. I brought Nathaniel’s copy of the grimoire inside and hid it among the rest of the books in his study, hoping it would blend in, just in case someone tried to steal it again. Will grabbed some quick food so he could heal his injuries before showering and I went ahead to take a shower in the bathroom connected to Nathaniel’s old room. I tried not to close my eyes, because every time I did, I saw Merodach’s last moment flash in my mind, heard his last words, and then saw Will’s sword separating his head from his neck. I wished I could scrub the memories away like I could scrub the blood from my skin. It was over, he was done with, and all I wanted was to forget his frightening face and move forward with my life and my mission.

  After quite a while, reluctant to leave the soothing hot water, I finished in the shower and dressed in a tank and shorts for bed. Will had already finished his shower and sat in the chair in the corner of his room, leaning forward on his elbows. His body was stiff and motionless, his hair still wet from his shower and his shirt was patched dark with dampness from his chest and back.

  “Are you okay?” I asked as I leaned against the doorframe and crossed my arms.

  He took a long, deep breath, letting his shoulders relax. He nodded.

  I stopped in front of him and ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes at my touch. After some time, he leaned back in the chair and looked up at me. “How’s your arm?” I asked.

  He rolled up his sleeve to expose the ugly red slash, all that was left of the deep gash Merodach’s sword had cut into him. I traced the line gently before pulling his sleeve back down. That slash had been meant for me, not for him, a blow that could have killed me. I looked up to find his gaze locked on my face.

  “And the other place you were hurt?” I asked, my voice trembling.

  He stood and lifted the bottom of his shirt to show me the mostly healed wound across his abdomen. My heart pounded as I lifted my hand to his skin, my shaking fingertips brushing over hard muscle, and he rested his forehead against mine. When I pulled my hand away, he straightened and looked down at me calmly and collectedly.

  “I should go.” I turned and took a step toward the door, but he grabbed my hand and spun me around, yanking me into him hard as I let out a gasp of surprise.

  “Don’t,” he said. His eyes were green orphic fire, piercing me for a heartbeat that felt like an eternity, and then his mouth opened hungrily against mine. His kiss was scorching, exploring, his chest pushing into mine. My arms wound around his neck as his mouth moved over mine and his hands smoothed around my waist. My back. My cheeks. Threading through my still-damp hair. My fingers dug into his shoulders and glided up the back of his neck as his lips found my throat, his breath hot against tender skin. His nose and lips brushed against my neck and he kissed a trail from the delicate spot behind my ear down my throat. He let the strap of my tank fall and his lips pressed to my bare shoulder. He was smiling and then so was I, laughing quietly into his hair, filled with so much happiness and rightness. I was ready for this. I wanted this. My hands touched his n
eck and jaw, playing with his ear and shirt collar. He laughed too, but there was something in his laugh that made my stomach flip and flutter, something rich and raging. My fingers traveled south and dipped into his waistband and fumbled with his belt.

  He stopped abruptly, just as he had when he’d driven me home from that stupid college party and I’d tried to seduce him. Only this time, he didn’t move away from me. His next kiss was light and brief, unsure, and I sobered up instantly. He stared at me, searching every inch of my face and body. His hand went through my hair and cupped my cheek, thumbing my bottom lip.

  “I love you,” I said against his thumb, kissing it once.

  He was suddenly breathless. “I’ve loved you forever.”

  His lips found the place under my jaw, that ultra-soft skin there, and I tilted my head back as fire raged through me. His free hand rested on my hip, his thumb making little circles on the point there. We stood there shakily, stuck again at that place that always caught us, my body trembling nervously against his. There wasn’t any going back now. He couldn’t walk away from me this time. He couldn’t tell me no and tear his eyes away from mine. Not again. So I made a move.

  My hands slid across his skin and I pulled the hem of his shirt up. He stood frozen for too long until he finally, slowly, raised his arms and I pulled his shirt over his head and touched him, the muscle sculpted over centuries of war. He was beautiful. For a moment I forgot to breathe. Breathe, I told myself.

  Oxygen brought my mind back to where my body was—against his. He dipped his head and kissed my lips, sweetly this time, with careful concentration. I squeezed my eyes shut as so much emotion poured through me in that instant. Desire had numbed my thoughts, but with that kiss, I suddenly remembered that I’d loved him for centuries, the way he’d loved me. I cursed myself for forgetting how deeply I cared for him and for forgetting his face and his name when I returned to this world as Ellie Monroe.