I feel sick with relief from seeing Charlie okay and learning that no matter what happens tonight, these guys don’t have orders to kill her. At least not yet. But that doesn’t change the fact that Rector almost did kill her. Blinded by a mix of fury and fear, I race toward Rector, no longer caring if the collector behind me fires. I charge toward his body, and we fall to the ground. We struggle, and I manage to get on top of him. I grab his head and slam it into the ground twice until I feel the barrel of his gun jab into my stomach, prepared to fire.
Rector smiles. “Nighty night.”
A sudden voice booms through the woods. “Stop!”
Everyone stares, waiting to see where the sound originated from. Taking my chance to get away from Rector’s gun, I jump back.
“Your weapons bring shame upon even your kind. Put them down,” the voice commands. “Now.”
I narrow my eyes and watch as a guy steps into view. He looks to be in his early twenties and has shoulder-length blond hair. Standing tall with his shoulders held back, his dark eyes pierce into Rector.
“Kraven,” Valery yells.
The guy, Kraven, turns quickly to glance at Valery. Then his eyes return to Rector.
“Who the hell are you?” Rector asks.
Kraven glares at him. Slowly, he repeats himself. “Put. Your weapons. Down.”
He has a way of speaking that seems regal, but Rector only rolls his eyes and says, “Somebody please take this guy out.”
Kincaid runs toward Kraven, and suddenly, the entire area is blasted with white light. It radiates from Kraven’s body, and I have to shade my eyes. When the light recedes, I pull my hand away and gasp.
Surrounding Kraven’s body are two enormous white wings. They arch over his head and stretch toward the sky, and he looks like a complete badass.
I glance at Rector, whose face is momentarily frozen with panic. Then he glances around at his collectors, remembering his quest, and barks, “I said get him!”
The collectors, more afraid of Rector’s wrath than of Kraven, rush toward the winged guy. Kincaid is closest, so he gets there first. Kraven wraps a wing around his body and swings it back out. The movement is so fast, I feel a rush of wind on my face. Kincaid flies through the air and smacks into a tree with a thud. I can’t be sure, but it doesn’t appear as if Kincaid is breathing.
Rector seems outraged at what Kraven just did to his collector. “Liberator!” Rector roars. “You want a fight?”
With Rector distracted, I race toward Charlie. But I stop when Rector leaps in front of me. His face. Something is wrong with his face. It’s like his skin is stretched too tightly across his bones. I take a step back even though everything in me screams for Charlie. Rector cocks his head like a bird, and then I hear a chilling, splitting sound from behind him. He stomps his right foot into the ground over and over.
“You want to fight me?” he yells again, and it almost feels like the ground is shaking. Behind Rector, Charlie stumbles backward. And then I see what’s caused her to stagger.
Massive black wings stretch slowly out of Rector’s back. They aren’t like Kraven’s. They aren’t covered in feathers and glowing. Instead, his wings are like a bat’s, slick like new leather and frayed in several places. My jaw drops open as he beats his wings once, causing a gust of wind to lash across my face. Rector bends at the waist like he’s going to leap. I feel certain he’s going to slaughter my ass, but then I notice his eyes are still locked on Kraven’s.
Rector jumps, and right as he’s about to sail over me, Charlie dives onto his back.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing until I watch both Charlie and Rector slam into the ground. She knocked him off balance. My Charlie…just took down a demon with freaking wings.
This time I do make it to Charlie with seconds to spare. I pull her up as Rector forgets all about Charlie’s soul and charges toward Kraven. Rector’s remaining collectors, clearly stunned at what Rector’s capable of, continue trying to fight Kraven. Max and Valery stand beside Kraven, trying to free him of the other collectors so he can focus on battling Rector.
“Run, you idiot,” Valery screams. “Get her out of here!”
And so I do. I nod my head once in Valery’s direction, because I’m not sure I’ll ever see her or Max again, and I run. Hand in hand, Charlie and I make it almost half a mile before agony tears through me, and I crumble to the ground. Pain sears the inside of my head and twists my muscles until I scream.
Charlie’s face floods with concern. “Dante,” she says between heavy breaths, “what’s wrong?”
For a moment, I don’t understand. And so I try to get back up. But when I’m blinded by pain once again, I remember why this is happening. I remember what I removed to save Charlie. I remember that my end is near.
After a few seconds, the pain subsides. I feel impossibly exhausted, like it’s hard to breathe, let alone run. But I know I have to get her to my truck. I don’t know how long I’ll make it, but I have to get her at least that far.
Gritting my teeth, I pull myself up, and after assuring Charlie I’m fine, we take off running again. I try and head in the direction of the dirt road, moving as quickly as my failing body will allow. It feels like we’re only a few yards away from Elizabeth Taylor when I hear a whooshing sound. Spinning around, I see Rector thud to the ground. I can’t decide whether he chased after us, or flew after us, or whether he can even fly at all. It’s the only thought I have before he lands a blow to my gut.
“This is so much better,” he says, his face still jacked up. “Now I know none of this will get back to anyone.”
When he pulls his arm up, I figure he’s going to hit me again. But then he says, “This is for getting in my way, bitch.” His hand flies across Charlie’s face, and she hits the ground.
I’m on him before he can even bring his arm forward again. Wings and freaky face be damned, this dick is about to get what’s coming to him.
I crash into Rector like a bulldozer. He flies off his feet, and his fugly head slams against the ground. He seems rattled by the sudden attack, and that confusion gives me just enough time to climb atop him. I land a blow to his chest right over his heart. Rector pulls in a ragged breath and gasps for air. As he tries to fill his lungs, I reach over his shoulder and grab hold of his right wing. Then I tear it toward me with everything I have. The wing feels rubbery in my hand, and Rector screams in pain. With a burst of energy, he pushes himself forward using his wings as arms.
Charlie rushes toward him, but before she can do any damage, he wing-wipes her like Kraven did Kincaid. She flies for several feet and then rolls to a stop. My throat closes as I remember what Kincaid looked like after the same thing happened to him. That he looked gone. But then I see her struggling to stand up and realize she’s okay. Afraid Rector will hit her again, I spring to my feet and race toward him.
But before I make it there, pain rips through me, and I tumble to the ground. Squeezing my head between my hands, I cry out.
“Dante!” Charlie yells.
“Shut. Up,” Rector says. I hear a terrible sound and know he’s hurt Charlie. “You know what I hate? That I cannot harm one measly human. I mean, this girl could have ruined things for a hundred years, and I have to wait to kill her? Wait for what? So God can have a chance to ruin our plan?” He spits Big Guy’s name like it’s poisonous.
I try to crawl toward Charlie, but I can hardly see her anymore. I’m dying, I think. I’m dying for the last time, and I don’t know what will happen to Charlie’s soul when I do. Blackness swirls before my eyes, and I feel like I’m floating above my body. The pain blisters my skin and wrenches my stomach into a fist. It’s unimaginable pain—and it’s the last thing I’ll experience as my girlfriend gets beaten in front of me.
“What’s wrong with you?” Rector kicks me in my ribs, and I bite down against the blow. “My guys get ahold of you back there?” He laughs. “Well, I am glad you made it. You will love watching this. Just because I can’t kill her
does not mean I can’t hurt her, am I right?”
Rector raises his gun like he’s going to use it to hit Charlie. Right as he’s bringing it down, I see a flash of something colorful race toward him.
Blue crashes into Rector.
Blue!
As they fight for the gun, I realize it must have been him I felt tailing me tonight.
Charlie screams Blue’s name. Then she struggles to stand and tries to take a swing at Rector. He shoves her down and hits Blue in the jaw, Blue’s face paint covering his knuckles.
“Charlie,” I choke out. “Run.”
She races to my side and tries to pull me up.
I push her away. “Run, Charlie. Now. If you love me…run!”
She looks at Rector, like she’s thinking if she runs that maybe he’ll follow her and leave Blue and me alone. She glances at me, squeezes my hand, and turns to go. She runs with a limp for a moment, but when she realizes her hip is no longer damaged, she races. My hearts lifts watching her fly forward, her legs pumping with precision.
I hear Valery calling her name, and I know if she gets to Charlie before Rector does that Charlie will have a chance at being safe.
Rector knows it, too, because he growls like a rabid animal and moves to race after her. Blue jumps on his back, dragging him down. Blue’s a twig, but right now he’s a pit bull, using every pound he has to attack. Swinging around, Rector fights against him. They brawl for several minutes, screaming and tearing at each other.
A sudden sound shatters my dying thoughts and rings through the night.
Blue’s eyes swell, and his face contracts in shock. Slowly his body slumps down. When he falls to the earth, Rector is holding a gun limply in his hand, a gun I hadn’t realized he had. His eyes meet mine, and he appears…terrified.
As much as Rector wants this promotion, as much as he wants to prove himself to Boss Man, he knows what we cannot do.
We can never—never—harm a human.
Boss Man clearly has plans to hurt a human—Charlie. But not now. Now is not part of his plan. Rector has screwed that up, and he’ll have to answer to the devil himself for what he’s done.
The look on Rector’s face says he didn’t mean for the gun to fire. But it may not matter, and he knows that. Striking Charlie was one thing; her bruises will heal. But this… Rector’s accident will ignite war between heaven and hell.
He drops the gun and leans down. Then he pulls me up by my shirt and presses his chest against mine. I feel something tug inside my ribs, but I’m so far gone, I’m not sure what’s happening.
Rector smiles darkly like he got what he wanted. Then he drops me to the ground and runs.
With Rector gone, I drag myself over to Blue and try to press on his wound. He gasps for air, and I wrap my other arm around his brightly painted face.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “We’ll take you to the hospital.” Even speaking takes the life out of me, and I know that, like Blue, I’m fading fast.
Blue sputters and squeezes his eyes shut. His entire body shakes like it’s thirty below. I grip him tighter and tell him all the lies I’ve learned to tell so well. I tell him it’s not that bad, that help is on its way. I tell him whatever I can to keep the truth from tumbling out—that there’s no way he’s walking away from this.
Blue whispers something I don’t catch, and I have to ask him what he said.
His eyes still closed, he says with shallow, jerky words, “I….love…her.”
“I know you do,” I say. “She knows you do.”
Blue opens and closes his mouth several times like he’s trying to breathe but can’t.
“Blue,” I say, pulling closer to him. “Blue!”
His body relaxes.
I close my eyes tight and try to block out what’s just happened. Try to convince myself Blue is still here. He’s right here.
Somewhere in the distance, I hear the sound of a car’s engine. I pray it’s Valery behind the wheel of Elizabeth Taylor, that Charlie’s next to her and Max is in the back. I pray my friends get out, and they remember Blue, who died for them tonight. And I hope they remember me, too. Deep down, I hope I was someone worth remembering in the end.
I lie back and let the pain slam into me. Gripping the dirt with my nails, I think of Charlie. I think of her beautiful, smiling mouth. I think of the feel of her skin against mine and the sparkle of life in her bright blue eyes.
Reaching beside me, I fumble for Blue’s hand and find it. I squeeze it hard and thank the boy who’s gone from this world. I turn toward him, feeling a tear race down my check, and I tell him, “I loved her, too.”
Blackness floods over me in a thick blanket.
It smothers everything that’s left of my life.
And with Charlie’s smiling face in my mind and her name on my lips, I let go.
Chapter Fifty-three
Rebirth
Bright light stings in front of my eyes, and I think to myself, Really? This is death?
Lame.
But then I hear something, and I’m certain that’s not right because A) There’s no noise after death, and B) I shouldn’t actually be thinking at all.
My eyes open, and I see Charlie’s big, goofy grin, and I decide if this is eternity, I’ll take it.
“He’s awake,” she squeals.
That squeal. Do it again. Please, do it again.
Imaginary Charlie grabs my hands, and I pull my imaginary ass up in bed and stare. She looks exactly the way she did the last time I saw her—covered in small battle wounds but otherwise perfectly beautiful.
“Careful,” she says. “Don’t overdo it.”
I glance around and notice this place is like Grams’s house, all floral and tackiness with a mild stench of poor people. I love it so much I could scream.
“Overdo it? He can’t overdo it. He’s Dante Walker, am I right?” Max strides into the room, beaming like a real live person.
“Is this happening?” I’m surprised to hear my own voice and decide right then and there that I have a positively perfect Man Voice.
“Damn right it is,” Valery says, stepping out from behind Max. She wraps her arms around her fiancé and smiles up at him, then back at me. “We saved your ugly ass. Though I must say, removing your cuff? Idiot move.”
“It was heroic.” Charlie leans over and kisses my cheek. “And yes, idiotic.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head. “How am I here?”
Charlie and Max glance at Valery, and I realize there’s something big I’m missing.
Valery clears her throat. “Um, there’s someone here to see you, if you’re up for more visitors.”
I nod, and they turn to leave.
“No, wait, don’t go. Not yet,” I say, sitting up straighter.
Valery’s mouth tugs into a sympathetic smile. “You’re going to want a minute. Trust me.”
The three of them leave the room, and a few seconds later, someone else steps inside. When I see him, my heart thumps hard inside my chest, and my mouth drops open.
“Dad,” I whisper.
My dad rushes toward my bed and pulls me into a hug. He holds me against him for several seconds, then takes my face in his hands. “My son. My D.”
“You’re alive,” I gasp, not able to believe he’s really here.
He grins, and I suddenly remember how much I’ve missed his face. It opens something wonderful inside of me.
“Kind of,” he answers. Tossing his leg onto the bed, he pulls his pant leg up and shows off a gold cuff wrapped around his ankle.
I gasp. “You’re a liberator?”
“Nah, I got this cuff on loan,” he says, sitting on the side of my bed. “I put in a special request to help with your…situation.”
I can’t get any other words out, can’t do anything but stare at my father.
“Listen, Dante, I can’t stay long. But I wanted to tell you something.” He takes my hand and pats it hard. His eyes stay on my hand as he speaks, li
ke it’s too difficult to meet my eyes. “That night. It wasn’t your fault. And I’ve watched you carry it around for two years.” My dad lifts his head and looks me dead in the face. “Let it go.”
I swallow past a lump in my throat. Finally, I choke out, “But if I’d been paying attention to the road instead of bitching about you missing my birthday…” Hot tears burn behind my eyes, but I refuse to cry in front of him.
“It as an accident, son,” he says firmly.
I bite down and stare at his hand over mine.
“Dante Walker, you tell me right now that you’ll let it go.”
“Fine, Mom,” I say.
My dad lets out a single sharp laugh. “Good,” he says, a smile sweeping across his face. “Now I want you to take this opportunity to be the man I know you can be.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about, but I’m too stunned by everything that’s happened in the last few minutes to do anything but nod. My dad—my dad!—pulls me into another hug.
“I love you, kid,” he says.
“You too, Dad.” I slap the outside of my dad’s arm in a friendly gesture but find myself holding onto him. For several moments, I study him in awe: his thick, gray-streaked dark hair, his wide shoulders and warm smile. Then, slowly, a sense of dread drowns out any other thought. He said his cuff was a loaner, which means he’ll have to leave soon. But he can’t leave. Now that he’s in front of me, I don’t know how I could handle seeing him go.
Almost as if he senses what I’m thinking, he stands from the bed and moves toward the door. He turns as if it pains him to do so and gives me a soldier’s salute.
“Dad…” I say.
“I know this is hard, me leaving,” he answers, his smile faltering. “But it has to be this way. I need you…I need you to say good-bye and keep living any way you can. Understand?”
Because I can’t speak, because I’d break down if I did, I salute him back, my chest full of fireworks.
He walks out the door, and I have to bite down to keep from begging him to come back.