“But how?” Zoe asked, clearly confused. “How would he make a new world?”
Silently my mind ticked over, and I wasn’t completely surprised when Phoenix spoke. “By killing the Weigher of all Souls,” he said, finally freeing the information that, as an angel, he was prohibited from sharing.
Steph snorted. “What? God? Does Sammael even know if God exists?”
Phoenix raised his eyebrows and wandered over to Steph’s laptop, which rested open on the coffee table. “Sammael was once an angel of the Sole, Steph. There is every chance he knows everything.” He sat and started to tap away on the keyboard.
“Oh,” she said. “But that still doesn’t mean he can just go and…kill…God. Does it?”
Phoenix spun the laptop around to face the room and flicked through screens showing different pieces of artwork.
“These are all images of the Final Judgment. In the center, you will see that there is one who holds the scales for all souls. Look closely,” he invited the room. “Tell me what you see.”
I didn’t need to look. I knew my art. I knew these works. But that wasn’t why I had the answer. Phoenix had already told me in as many words.
“He has wings,” I said.
Steph looked closer and I heard her gasp. “The Weigher of all Souls is an angel,” she said.
“The Commander and Chief, the most loyal and ruthless, and above all else, irreplaceable,” Phoenix said.
“Michael,” Gray said softly.
No one disagreed.
Phoenix closed the laptop and stood up, briefly meeting all the wide eyes in the room then settling on mine. “By killing Michael, Sammael will extinguish humanity’s ultimate judgment, thereby removing the greatest of consequences.”
“Heaven and Hell,” Steph said.
Phoenix nodded. “No human knows what they truly are, what awaits them after death, but the idea is enough to make most people consider the final outcome. Take away accountability, conscience will soon follow, and the world…” He looked down. “The world will slip into anarchy.”
“With Sammael at the helm as its new god,” Lincoln said.
“He who does not punish evil commands it to be done.”
Leonardo da Vinci
From my place, lying on my stomach, wedged between Lincoln and Carter on the roof of the Governor Nicholls Street Wharf, I had a perfect view of the river. I could see both the battleship we had hovering just around the bend and the steamboat glamoured beneath a thick fog anchored in the middle of the Mississippi.
“Once we get your boy, we should just green-light the navy boys to blow up the whole damn thing. You know, simplify,” Carter said, still grumpy it had taken him the longest to break down the glamour and reveal the steamboat. Lincoln hadn’t needed any time at all. Our powers were once again linked. What I saw, he saw.
Of course, that went both ways.
“There are humans on that ship,” I said, even as I shuddered. Having a connection to Lincoln’s power meant that I was again able to see the shadows left behind by exile interference. Almost the entire city was shaded. I’d never imagined that something so tainted was possible.
Mia, lying on the other side of Lincoln, looked appalled. We had teamed her with us since we were in the most exposed position. Mia was a senior Ghoster and her skillset meant she could produce a “look away.” It was similar to a glamour, but instead of making us look like something else, she made us look like nothing. If a pair of eyes—exile or human—looked upon us, they would simply not register that we were there.
“Yeah, well, they made their choice. Greater good, purple. Sometimes you gotta make the tough decisions,” Carter pushed.
The worst thing was, as much as I wanted to smack Carter over the head for even considering it, I knew there would be many who would agree with his point of view, and I worried that with the high number of soon-to-arrive Grigori, including Josephine, this view would receive more attention.
I shook my head. “We don’t kill people, Carter. That’s not our job. Nor our right.”
“Is that what you tell yourself?” he asked, rolling slightly from one hip to the other to reposition. “You see the line so clear?”
“Of course,” I said, though my voice wavered. There had been a time I’d found the choice to return exiles, to take my blade to them, a difficult one.
Carter shrugged. “Maybe it is. But that doesn’t change the fact they went and got themselves human bodies. We call them exiles, but you can’t pretend there is nothing human about them.”
“We give them a choice, Carter. It’s the most we can do. They choose,” Lincoln said.
Carter snorted, making me feel uncomfortable because I felt an element of what he was saying had merit and, according to him, that made me a hypocrite. “You really think they can choose anything? They’re insane. Their choice will only ever reflect that.”
“Either way, Carter, that doesn’t change the fact that we will not harm the humans on that ship if we can avoid it,” I said firmly.
“Not to mention,” Lincoln added, “that unless you were planning to blow up the boat with Grigori shrapnel, it would at best only injure the exiles on board.”
Carter grunted. “We could always fill it with something else,” he said looking at my wrists.
I flinched and Carter froze when, beside me, Lincoln growled. I could feel the overwhelming anger flow from Lincoln in waves, and from the look on Carter’s face, he could too. I hadn’t told Carter about my blood, but he’d been privy to a lot of information lately and, with the number of rumors circulating, I wasn’t surprised he’d put two and two together.
“Of course, we could always just stick to the plan,” Carter said, looking back out toward the river, clearing his throat. “It’s a good plan.”
I bit my lip to hold back my smile and discreetly slid my hand into Lincoln’s. Instantly I felt the tension in his body ease.
Mia shifted closer to the edge. “Come on,” she chanted impatiently. “Please, we need to get him back.”
“We will,” Lincoln consoled, and I felt a clear flash of his feelings toward her: warm, protective, deriving entirely from his sense of brotherhood with Spence. And I realized that was why Lincoln had been looking out for Mia the night she was dancing with Gray and why he had often deferred to her counsel when it came to matters that affected Spence’s life.
I tightened my grip on his hand, my heart clenching.
Mia nodded and kept her eyes fixed on the steamboat.
I looked out to the other positions where we had hidden our small teams. It wasn’t as easy to sneak up to the river as we had hoped. There was a lot of open land, which made visibility a problem, and the streetcar line divided the river from anywhere we could park surveillance vehicles, so we had broken into small groups and scattered.
Gray and Salvatore were captaining speedboats currently on standby. Tactically positioned close to the navy destroyer and on opposite sides of the river, they waited for our signal.
A few hours later, my limbs numb from holding the same position for so long, my phone buzzed.
The text from Phoenix, who was positioned precariously at the top of a nearby electrical cable tower, was brief.
Incoming.
We all looked up in time to see the speck in the sky come into focus, the thumping chopper sounds growing steadily louder.
I could hear Mia whispering. “Please, please, please.”
I did the same internally. If Spence wasn’t on this helicopter, we were out of ideas. And that wasn’t acceptable. The only thing that made me believe we were right was the knowledge that Sammael wanted me to find him.
He needs me.
I pushed the thought aside.
“You sure you’ve got us covered?” Carter asked Mia as the chopper neared.
Mia sent him a sharp look.
“Of course I have!” she replied defensively. It really wasn’t a good idea to question a senior Grigori’s capabilities, and Carter knew it. “Do you even have a strength?” she added.
Before Mia finished her question, Carter was suddenly no longer next to me, but lying beside Mia.
She gasped. “How the hell did you do that?”
I would’ve rolled my eyes if they weren’t fixed on the helicopter as it approached the steamer. “He has a five-second rewind,” I explained. “Usually by the time he realizes he needs to go back, it’s too late. But every now and then it comes in handy.”
“Like the time I blocked that ax from going through your spine?” he offered.
“Like that,” I grumbled, then added, “Look. They’re down.”
We all waited as, beneath the rotating blades, a well-dressed exile jumped out, then another. Then we saw three humans jump down, all wearing business suits, all shadowed. I held my breath for a small eternity and finally, we saw another exile emerge. He was large and dressed in loose pants and a T-shirt—fighting clothes, like ours.
Spence was draped over his shoulder.
“He’s not moving,” Mia hissed.
My phone buzzed again. This one was from Chloe.
He’s alive.
“She wouldn’t say it if she wasn’t sure, Mia,” I said, trying to give her the strength she would need. Because we could all see, even if he was alive, he clearly wasn’t in a good state.
“Our boats are on the move,” Lincoln said, putting his phone away.
And that was our cue. We all pulled on the ropes—anchored to the rooftop and threaded through quick-draw D rings—attached to our waists. Without pause, we backed off the edge, plunging quickly to the ground and landing easily.
By the time we ran to the river’s edge, Gray was pulling up in his speedboat, slowing to give us a chance to leap into the back.
I held on tightly as he lurched forward again, sprays of water spitting into my face. We knew that our boat, or Sal’s, which was approaching with the rest of the team from the other side, would be spotted in moments. We had to get on board fast.
As Gray pulled alongside the steamboat, Lincoln and Carter shot arrows connected to cables up and onto the deck. Once they were hooked, Mia climbed onto Carter’s back and I climbed onto Lincoln; they then flicked the retract button and we were hauled up onto the deck.
“Gotta love the navy boys,” Carter remarked as he threw the one-shot weapon, courtesy of our Grigori positioned within the U.S. Navy, to the ground.
On the other side of the boat, Phoenix and Chloe boarded, along with the conductors, Milo with Taxi, and Zoe flying solo.
Chloe looked as pale as a ghost, and I was sure it had nothing to do with seasickness and everything to do with whatever she was sensing through her partner bond.
I need to get to Spence. Now.
Exiles and humans alike started to run in our direction, the humans carrying automatic weapons and the exiles with swords—or simply smiles.
Holy hell, there are more than we’d counted on.
“Linc.” It was all I needed to say. Instantly he was by my side.
My sentinel.
“Zoe, your team has the deck!” Lincoln yelled.
I trusted that Lincoln had things in hand as he continued to issue orders, so I blocked him and everything else out and focused on my power—the part that sat right at the base of the well within me, the part that made me feel as light as air and frighteningly powerful. Breathing deeply, I urged it forward, beckoning my Sight and leaving my corporeal form behind where Lincoln stood guard.
I could see the boat now from my bird’s-eye position—like a pattern or blueprint, shaded and obscured, its evil intent pulsing on the perimeter. And within, I could see auras. The human impressions were not as bright as they should have been, and I knew that this was because they had been tainted by the exiles controlling them.
Auras were always one color. The exiles were easily spotted, always shades of red. Grigori were different, but each one was still a solid color. Except for me—like so many things, my color was an anomaly. A rainbow.
I instantly registered Lincoln’s grass-green aura, but I was momentarily surprised to see that it had changed: still green, but right in the center, a shimmer of color bled out.
In his heart.
Of me.
I forced my eyes to move on and continue the search. Phoenix’s unique shade of orange-gold caught my attention and then my Sight traveled below deck.
It was only a matter of seconds before I found Spence. His particular shade of azure blue was almost completely smothered in thick, ominous shadow, and beside him was a great expanse of red. Blood-red.
Sammael.
Anger saturated me and I harnessed it, feeding my power and pushing it out over the entire vessel until every exile was under my hold. All except Sammael. I wouldn’t be fooled again. I knew he was immune to my ability.
Zoe led the way—with Phoenix close behind—as our people pushed through the fighting humans, concentrating on taking out the exile threat as quickly as possible. While Grigori used their blades, I knew that Phoenix would be reaching in and tearing out their exile hearts.
At that moment, with Spence covered in shadow, it was a gruesome tactic I was prepared to live with.
Once they were all taken care of on the top deck, I felt Lincoln’s power calling to me. For the first time, the lure of holding on to my Sight and remaining in my incorporeal state held little temptation. The feeling was present, but it was simply outweighed by another feeling that was so much stronger.
When I opened my eyes, Lincoln was waiting for me and he smiled, as if he knew exactly how much he had truly fixed me.
Catching my breath, I looked out over the ongoing fight with the remaining humans. Taking out the exiles on deck had given us the advantage for the moment, but we were still only a few against many.
“We’ll try to disarm the humans and knock them out so we can get them off the boat,” Lincoln said. He didn’t need to speak the silent “but.” We both knew there was a chance things would go wrong.
I nodded once, already looking for the entry to the lower decks. “I know where he is.”
I grabbed Lincoln’s hand and started to push through the throng toward the lower deck, Lincoln pausing only to call out to Zoe that she had control of the deck.
By the time we made it down the stairs, Phoenix was at my other side and Carter, Milo, and Taxi stormed down the stairs, heading in the opposite direction to secure the cabins.
I walked straight toward the wide double doors at the end of the hall. When I reached them, I threw them open, abandoning any further attempts at stealth. Sammael knew we were there. Sure enough, there on the far side of the ship’s casino, he stood, waiting, Spence beside him.
We strode across the room, stopping about fifteen feet from them.
“Spence,” I said.
“You’re earlier than I expected,” Sammael mused, though he was clearly unperturbed.
“Spence!” I said again when he didn’t respond. He just stood beside Sammael, staring out through blank eyes.
He doesn’t see me.
“He does not exist in this reality anymore. Not entirely,” Sammael said from beside him.
I turned my heated glare on the exile, my senses on high alert as they fought against the onslaught that was Sammael. Beyond powerful—unlike the last time we’d crossed paths, he wasn’t holding back. He wanted me to know what I was up against.
He looked exactly the same as he had that night at Lilith’s estate. Unassuming—short, slim, and bald with light gray eyes hidden behind wire-rimmed glasses. Again he wore an expensive-looking yet conservative suit with a blue tie. The only difference was that this time, his shoulders were back and his eyes were proud—he expected to be noticed.
<
br /> He gave nothing away, taking his time to study first Phoenix and then Lincoln, who were standing on either side of me.
“Would you prefer something more like what you are used to?” he asked, sarcasm leaking into his words as he suddenly morphed into a taller, considerably more handsome—and haired—appearance. “Humans are so predictable. They all dream of being surrounded by beautiful things.” He smiled, returning to his former self. “Angels who exile automatically take on beautiful forms. Why would they not when beauty is so often richly rewarded?” He winked at me. “But I’ll let you in on a secret. I never wanted the beauty. You see”—his tone dropped and became more intimate—“you can achieve so much more when no one is watching.”
“Give him to me,” I said, keeping my eyes on Sammael and making my threat clear.
“Of course,” Sammael continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “all those angels who abandoned their realm simply thought they could rule this world better.” He chuckled lightly. “Not me. No, I never wanted to rule this world.”
“Then perhaps you should consider leaving it,” I sniped, losing patience.
He ignored me. “I am going to make a better world.”
“A world based on fear?” I asked.
He shrugged, holding out his arms. “What do you think this world is built on? Do you not ever wonder why religion exists? The point of it all? Ask yourself: Are humans more inclined to conform because they hope for Heaven or because they fear Hell?”
I didn’t respond. Instead I asked, “What have you done to Spence?”
“How could I deny him? It was a beautiful dance of free will at its worst for him and best for me. Oh, Violet, he wanted to find me. He has hunted me for years. Of course, I could have taken him anytime, but I needed to be sure everything was in place first.”
When I narrowed my gaze, he rolled his eyes, as if disappointed I wasn’t more impressed. “He is absent. Absent in mind, in conscious thought; adrift, while his imagination has very likely delivered his mind to somewhere…unpleasant.”