Chorizon.
Serah headed outside into the chilly air, strolling quietly away from the abandoned community center. The dark sky swirled, the red clouds thicker than before, more imposing. It was getting worse, she knew. The world was dying around her, and she could do nothing to stop it.
She stepped into the street, heading for the playground, when a crack of electricity rocked the air behind her.
"Luce—" She turned, cutting off mid-name when her eyes fell upon the glowing sword of fire. "Michael."
He towered above her, his expression hard as he swung the sword in her direction. She instantly backed up a few steps, her heart stalling for a few beats as she stared at the scorching blade.
"I, uh. . ."
"Do not speak," he commanded, moving toward her as she retreated more. "Nothing you say will absolve you of responsibility. You shamed yourself. You shamed the world. You shamed me. And for that, you must be held accountable."
Another crack echoed down the street. Serah’s eyes darted that direction, her gaze falling upon Lucifer. Before she could look back at Michael, panicked, she was overpowered, viciously thrown to the hard asphalt. Michael's foot slammed into her chest, knocking the air from her lungs. She gasped, tears springing to her eyes, as the blade of the sword pressed against the dip in the throat. She swallowed thickly, feeling it almost pierce the skin.
"Have you come to watch, Satan?" Michael’s gaze remained on Serah as he addressed his brother. "Come to bask in the glow of her Grace one last time?"
"And they say I’m the cruel one," Lucifer said. "You’re supposed to be merciful when you take their wings."
"Oh, I have no intention of taking her wings," Michael said.
Lucifer’s brow furrowed. "No?"
Michael shook his head. "No."
Hope washed through Serah, energizing her, but it faded quickly as Michael’s sword trailed along her skin, away from her throat. He pressed it against her chest, over her racing heart, the burning blade ever so slightly slicing the skin.
"Don’t do it!" Lucifer howled, his livid voice vibrating the structures surrounding them. "Stop!"
A scream tore from Serah, and she arched her back as the flames intensified, burning away at her flesh. Searing pain ran through her body, scorching lava pooling deep inside of her where blood should be. Her skin bubbled and blistered bright red as the black char mark formed, the ritualistic symbol carved into her chest.
She writhed on the ground, the ferocious sting building and building inside of her, overtaking all of her senses. Her vision blurred, tears streaming down her cheeks and splattering the cold asphalt. Her chest felt like it would explode, light collecting in the area of the wound and streaming out through her skin, the mark pulsating with the beat of her heart.
Lucifer was upon her in the blink of an eye, crouching beside her on the ground. He pulled her into his arms, cradling her. His thumbs brushed along her cheeks, wiping away her tears. When he pulled his hands away, she saw they were covered in red.
She was crying blood.
"Am I dying?" she asked, the words barely audible. She stared up in the sky as a ruddy cloud was swallowed by sheer blackness.
A reaper, she realized.
"Fix this!" Lucifer demanded. "Fix it now!"
"It’s time you learn a lesson in humility," Michael said. "You can’t command me. You have no hold on me. You are nothing to me. Nothing."
"That may be true, Prince, but it’s not for me. Do it for her."
"Why?"
"Because she’s not nothing to you! You love her!"
"Not anymore."
"You can lie to yourself, and everyone else, but you can’t lie to me, Michael," Lucifer sneered. "We’re connected—always have been, and always will be. And I know you love her, brother, because I can feel it. I feel it in every beat of my fucked-up heart. I feel it every time I look at her, or smell her, or am within twenty feet of her."
"You’re wrong," Michael insisted.
"Stop this!" Lucifer yelled. "Don’t punish her for what I’ve done!"
"Why?"
"Because. . ." A growl ripped from Lucifer’s chest. "Because maybe I fucking love her, okay?"
"Impossible," Michael said. "You're incapable of love."
"And you're fucking blind," Lucifer spat. "How easily you flip a switch. I can accept you turning your back on me, but her? She's done nothing but show compassion for everyone!"
"She succumbed to your evil!"
"No, she looked past it!" he spat. "She found something in me, something no one else could see. She cared, when no one else gave a damn. She tried, when everyone else said it was pointless. And you discard her! You damn her to an eternity in Hell for it!"
"You wanted her, Satan? You can have her." Not a speck of emotion could be found in Michael’s voice. "Let her forever exist in the lake of fire, trapped between the living and the dead like you."
Michael took a step back, giving her a lingering glance before slowly closing his eyes and turning away. He vanished in a crack of thunder.
"Michael!" Lucifer howled, his voice cracking as emotion poured from his chest. "Come back here!"
"I am dying," Serah whispered as more blackness overtook the sky. "The reapers have come."
Lucifer groaned, before screaming again. "I know you can hear me! Don’t ignore me!"
"It’s okay," Serah said, turning her head slightly to look at Lucifer. His face was turned to the sky, blocked from her view. "Look at me, Luce. It’s okay."
Lucifer glanced down. Shock ran through Serah in waves when she saw his eyes were glossed over. His expression contradicted the sadness in his eyes, his lip curling as he bared his teeth. "It’s not okay!" His attention darted upward again, and Serah’s gaze followed his. The reapers had quadrupled in a matter of seconds. "Michael! Fucking show yourself!"
Through the haze of her vision, she could see a few fluffy, white flakes drifting from the sky, like tiny balls of cotton. Snow.
You have until the snow falls on you to establish the truce.
"It’s too late," Serah whispered. The wind stirred, blowing viciously. Screeching ripped through the air as the blackness swirled wildly, menacing and unyielding. Thousands of reapers had now taken to the sky above. They circled, moving closer and closer, a descending cyclone of death. Serah stared at them, her body trembling as her teeth chattered. "It’s over."
"It’s not," Lucifer ground out. "Not yet."
"I’m dying."
"You’re not," he said, pausing before adding, "but you will."
Lucifer grabbed his gold knife and grasped it tightly, his face contorted with agony. Serah’s gaze turned to him, but she didn’t have time to make sense of anything. He closed his eyes, muttering under his breath, "So help me God," before fiercely plunging the blade in her chest.
Suddenly, the pain erupted inside of Serah, a vibrant ball of light bursting from her chest. All around her, everything exploded into flames. Every speck of color swirled together, morphing and mixing, turning to dull gray. It faded to scorching white pain before being overrun by blackness as numbness swallowed Serah whole.
The last thing she heard, as she slipped into the darkness, was the telltale crack of thunder ripping across the sky, notifying the world:
Another angel had fallen today.
Luce sat in the middle of the empty street, his head bowed, his legs stretched out in front of him. Serah lay beside him, her head on his lap, the knife still jutting from her moving chest. Specs of light flickered around them like tiny stars, the golden glitter of Grace being absorbed by the atmosphere. It danced across Luce’s skin, but instead of reveling in it, he felt nothing except abhorrence toward the sensation.
A pool of blood gathered along the street, soaking Luce’s pants. He paid it no attention as he gently stroked her soft brown hair. She seemed so peaceful, her eyes closed as she slept deeply for the first time.
Unconscious.
The air in front of him crackled, the rep
ulsive scent filling Luce’s lungs as he inhaled. It smelled sort of like stagnant water, musty and polluted. It was an odor that had frequently tainted the sunshine on Serah’s skin.
"What did you do?"
Luce laughed darkly at his brother’s question. "I did what you were too bitter to do."
Luce reached for the knife, grabbing the handle of it, but he didn’t have a chance to yank it out. Michael reacted defensively when Luce touched the weapon. Drawing his sword, he pointed it at Luce's forehead, closing the distance between them. "Give up now, Satan!"
Luce’s voice was low. "I already have."
The blade shifted slightly, dropping from Luce’s face, as Michael regarded him with cautious suspicion.
"I wanted you to suffer," Luce explained. "I wanted to hurt you, to take it all from you, but I realize now it’s impossible. I can’t expect you to feel anything when you feel nothing, brother. I can’t expect you to be anything but heartless when you have a heart that doesn’t beat."
"I’m not heartless."
"You just stand there as she bleeds!"
"What do you expect from me?"
"Nothing anymore." The air around Luce seemed to grow lighter as he spoke. "I expect nothing from anyone. Fighting with you is no longer worth it. Everything I've felt, everything I've been through, doesn't compare to what she gave me."
"What's that?"
Love.
He didn't say it, but he didn't have to. Michael heard the declaration anyway.
"You truly love her."
"I told you I did."
"If you remove that knife, she'll extinguish from the world forever."
"Even if I don't, she's gone anyway," he said. "She's bleeding out. Her heart is already slowing."
"I gave you what you wanted," Michael said. "I don't understand. You’d rather she die instead?"
"You're fucking right, I would!" Luce looked away from Serah, his eyes meeting Michael’s. "Death would be better than this. Death would be better than remembering me."
Luce pulled on the knife just as Michael dropped his sword, a perplexed look on his face. He knelt down beside Serah when Luce tore the knife from her chest. Michael's hand immediately covered the bleeding wound. Light radiated from his fingertips, surging through her body, her skin glowing bright orange, containing the life force in her injured body.
When Michael pulled his hand away, the wound had been healed, only a faint circular scar remaining where the mark had been. "For her, then," Michael said.
Luce sighed. "For her."
Epilogue
Six months later
(Precisely . . . not a moment sooner, not a second later)
The air was still and warm, sunlight streaming through the branches of the big oak tree, reflecting off of the lush, green leaves. A few rays splashed upon the woman leaning against the trunk of the tree, her bare feet planted on either side of the crack in the sidewalk. Her gaze was fixated directly ahead of her, her eyes scanning the freshly painted sign on the building across the street.
Chorizon Community Center
A shrill bell echoed from the elementary school behind her, followed by laughter and the sound of dozens of sets of feet running for freedom. The last day of school had come to an end, the students embarking on summer break. Children sprinted past her without so much as a glance, anxious to get home to play.
Eight-year-old Nicki Lauer wandered down the sidewalk in the back of the pack, her best friend Emily by her side. The two girls skipped along, arm in arm, in no rush as they happily sung.
"He's got the whole world in his hands,
He's got the whole wide world in his hands,
He's got the whole world in his hands,
He's got the whole world in his hands!"
They slowed when they neared the big oak tree. Emily leaped over the crack, careful not to step on it. Nicki did the same before jerking her friend’s arm, making her stop, as her gaze turned to the tree. Carefully, she let go of Emily, a curious expression on her face.
"Ma’am?" she called out. "Are you lost?"
A pair of warm, brown eyes drifted from across the street to the child in front of her. Slowly, she shook her head. "No, I don’t think so."
"My name’s Nicki," she said. "What’s your name?"
The woman frowned slightly at the question. "I’m not sure."
Nicki’s brow furrowed. "You don’t know your name?"
"No." A soft sigh escaped her lips. "I can’t remember."
"I was named after my daddy. His name is Nick, like Nicholas. Everyone thinks it’s funny, because I’m a girl and he’s a boy, but I like my name." Nicki tentatively stepped closer. "Hey! Maybe that’s your name, too!"
She shook her head. "I don’t think so."
"Maybe it’s Sam," Nicki said. "That’s my mommy’s name. It sounds more like a boy, though, but her real name is Samantha. She’s having a baby soon. His name is gonna be Sam, too, but like Samuel and not Samantha, because that’s definitely a girl’s name."
"Sam." A soft smile turned the woman’s lips as something in her chest tugged and tightened, like it recognized the word. "Samuel."
"Could that be your name? Sam?"
"Maybe," the woman said. "Although, I think it might be Sarah."
Serah.
"Nicki," Emily hissed, tugging on her friend’s arm, her face scrunched up with concern. "You know you’re not supposed to talk to strangers."
"It’s okay," Nicki insisted. "She’s not a stranger . . . not really. And besides, Mrs. Mallory said we should help people if we can, remember?"
The little girl rolled her eyes and turned around, starting to stomp away.
"So how come you don’t know your name?" Nicki asked, shrugging off her friend’s brusque departure. "Everybody knows their name, even Johnny Lee, and he doesn’t know anything. He’s such a dumb-head."
"The doctors say I have amnesia."
"My mommy has that!" Nicki declared. "She went to the doctor because she was dizzy, and they took her blood with a needle and said it was because of am-nesia. She didn’t forget her name, though."
Serah smiled softly. "I think you mean anemia."
"Oh." Nicki shrugged it off with a laugh. "How come you got amnesia?"
"I had an accident a few months ago." Serah motioned toward the busy street in front of them. "I woke up in the middle of this street, right in this spot. I had no memory of anything before that moment. My first memory is of a pair of crystal blue eyes gazing down at me from above."
"Was it when it was storming?" Nicki asked. "Because a lot of people had accidents then. Emily’s daddy got hurt, too, but he’s okay now. He still knows his name."
"Yes, I think so," Serah replied. "They said I woke up when it ended."
"Nicki!" Emily hollered down the street, her hands on her hips as she narrowed her eyes. "Come on!"
Nicki sighed dramatically at her friend before turning her focus back on Serah. "Are you sure you’re not lost? I’m good with directions. I don’t even need a map!"
"I’m sure," Serah replied, turning her focus back to the community center. "I think I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be."
Nicki ran off to rejoin her friend, giving a brief wave goodbye, as Serah’s gaze drifted across the street. Heavy afternoon traffic flowed by, a line of school buses shielding her view of the community center. When all was clear again, her gaze fell upon the form standing outside of the building. He was dressed in all black, blue eyes intense compared to his dark hair and tanned skin. He stood in the shadows, shielded from her, darkness shrouding him. Serah stared into those piercing eyes, losing herself in them, feeling like she was floating in the clouds, literally swept off her feet. She let out a shaky breath, his name on the tip of her tongue, but it wouldn’t come out, no matter how hard she fought to remember it.
In a blink, he was gone, fading away like an apparition, a vague memory out of her reach. She saw him everywhere: sometimes when awake, sometimes when asleep. He spo
ke once, his lips moving, his quiet voice whispering what she believed was her name.
Sighing, she turned away and grabbed her discarded shoes from the ground, carrying them as she strolled barefoot through the school playground. She bypassed the swings, hardly giving them a look as they swayed slightly in a nonexistent breeze.
Someday she’d remember, she swore. Someday she’d know his name. Someday she’d know hers. And someday, she’d know why: why he haunted her every thought, why, when she looked into his eyes, she felt like she was home.
Because time passes, and memories fade, but a beating heart never truly forgets anything.
Never.
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, I have to acknowledge my amazing family for their endless support and love. Thank you guys for always being there for me. I'm truly a lucky gal.
Many thanks to Sarah Anderson for pushing me to follow through with my first paranormal story. I can honestly say this manuscript wouldn't have seen the light of day if not for you urging me on. I look forward to the moment I finally get to hold your first book in my hands while the rest of the world discovers your beautiful words.
To Iris Jurado for being generous with her time and prereading, and to Lisa Hollett for editing this bad boy. To Nicki Bullard, my surrogate sister, for being there through all the ups and downs. To Traci Blackwood, and Krystal Velez, and Vanessa Diaz, and all of my other friends on Twitter and Facebook, and to the entire online fan fiction community. Words can't adequately express my love for you all. You're extraordinary. Let's make out, okay?
And to everyone reading this who yearned to write but became deterred along the way… don't give up on your dreams, and never listen to the naysayers. If there's a story inside of you, let it out. Beautiful things will happen when you do.
Table of Contents
Prologue
One
Two
Three