Armageddon (32 page)

“I like her,” Vilma said. “At first I hated her for what she did to you as a baby, but now that I’ve gotten to know her, I see what a strong woman she is.”

“I’m going to need you both to be strong, to carry on what we started,” he said. “No matter what I do, the world is never going to be as it was, and humanity will need you and my mom, and the others, to help guide it.”

Aaron reached down and took her beautiful face in his hands, tilting it up to him. “Will you do that for me?” he asked.

“I would move the world for you if I could,” she said.

She reached out, placing a hand gently around the back of his neck, and pulled his face down to kiss him.

If there was anything he needed to inspire him to endure, it was in that kiss. If it had lasted a lifetime, it would still have been too short, and Aaron wished that he could kiss Vilma forever. But it was time.

They said nothing as they stepped apart. Aaron took her hand in his for one last bit of physical contact, as they approached the double doors and pushed through them into the large concrete room.

Gabriel was standing there to greet them, along with Dusty. Aaron was a bit taken aback by the young man’s appearance; his skin was covered in dark gray patches that appeared almost metallic.

“Gabriel says you have a question,” Dusty said before Aaron could ask how he was.

“Yeah,” Aaron answered, knowing that it was only a formality for Vilma and his mother. He knew exactly what he had to do. “So, what I’m about to do . . .” Aaron trailed off.

Dusty considered his words for a moment. “It’s so much worse if you don’t,” he finally said.

Aaron nodded. It was as he thought. He looked to Vilma, who squeezed his hand, acknowledging that she understood as well.

“If this is going to happen, we might want to make it
quick,” Levi called out. “I’m not quite sure how much longer Mallus has.”

Levi was standing near Mallus in the far corner of the garage. The angel’s gaze was focused entirely on the sphere that he still held in his hands. He looked even skinnier than when he’d first arrived.

Aaron gave Vilma one last kiss, staring into her eyes for what very well might be the last time.

“Love you forever,” he whispered.

“Love you forever,” she echoed.

He squatted down in front of Gabriel and threw his arms around the Labrador’s thick neck, squeezing tightly, breathing in the comforting smell of the animal.

Then he rose and headed toward Mallus.

Taylor Corbet intercepted him, taking him by the arm. “I wish we could have had more time.”

“It would have been nice,” Aaron agreed.

“You’ve made me very proud.” She touched his cheek.

“And you’re every bit as beautiful as I thought you would be,” he said, wrapping his arms around her in a loving hug. “I’m so grateful that we got the chance to do this.”

And with those words, they released each other. Taylor stepped back. There was so much more that they could have said, but they would have to be satisfied with what they had shared.

The fallen angel lifted his gaze at Aaron’s approach. “It’s about time,” he said weakly.

“Had some things to get in order first,” Aaron told him.

“Understood,” Mallus said. “Are we ready to try this?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Aaron answered. “What do I need to do?”

Mallus’s eyes had returned to the sphere. “Hope with all your heart that it accepts you.”

Aaron braced himself for what was to come.

“Here goes.” Mallus leaned his face in toward the crackling sphere. “You can let it out now, Tarshish. The kid’s here, ready and willing.”

The halo that had once been the Malakim, Tarshish, gradually began to break down, and the divine energy that once belonged to the Almighty began to pulse and grow all the more intense as it was released from its confinement.

“Let’s see if he’s able,” Mallus said, thrusting the power of God at Aaron.

*   *   *

Vilma had no idea what to expect. She didn’t know any more than any of the others did.

Mallus was going to give Aaron some kind of power that might—

Might.

Be able to help them save the world.

As she stood beside Aaron’s mother, Vilma’s mind raced. She thought of what was happening in the world outside, of her uncle, aunt, and cousins, of the other Nephilim, but mostly she thought of Aaron and how much she loved him, and how
she was now going to have to share him with this new power.

Mallus looked as though he had aged fifty years, and Vilma had to wonder if the same would happen to Aaron. She feared for the fallen angel. He had only been part of their group for a short time, but during times like these, people bonded quickly. Could she bear to lose another friend?

She watched from across the vast garage as Mallus turned toward Aaron, that glowing sphere in his outstretched hands.

He offered the power to Aaron. It was the passing of the guard, so to speak.

Vilma had to fight the urge to tell him not to take it, to cry out that they would come up with another way.

To everyone else, the power of God represented a chance to right what had been done to the world. But Vilma saw it as an end to any happiness she might ever have had.

A warm hand slipped into hers, and she started. It was Taylor Corbet.

Aaron’s mother stared ahead at the scene unfolding before them, sharing her strength. It couldn’t be any easier for Taylor; meeting her son after so much sacrifice, only to lose him to this.

Vilma gave the woman’s hand a gentle squeeze, acknowledging that she was there for her—that they were there for each other.

Aaron stepped closer to Mallus, and the fallen angel thrust his prize toward Aaron’s chest.

She didn’t know what to expect; none of them did.

Which made what happened then all the more scary.

*   *   *

Mallus felt his life slipping away.

He wondered if this had been God’s plan all along.

He thought of his past, of how he’d followed Lucifer Morningstar into war, escaping God’s wrath by coming to earth, and falling in with the Architects and their mad plans to make the earth superior to Heaven, no matter the cost. Those were interesting times, but what had been even more interesting was his change of heart. A change of heart brought on by the Morningstar’s transformation, nonetheless. In watching Taylor and his former commander, Mallus had been able to see the beauty of this world, and all the good that God had intended for it.

Mallus’s failing eyes searched the garage for a sign of her, the human woman who had transformed the Son of the Morning: Taylor Corbet. Across the room, she looked as beautiful as when he’d first seen her. There was something special about that one.

Mallus chuckled to himself. Of course there was; she had managed to tame the Morningstar. And, in the process, she had given birth to the savior Nephilim, the one who would restore the fallen to Heaven. And now he could very well be saving both earth and Heaven, if all went as hoped. If there was anything that Mallus had learned as he’d wandered this world,
it was that God was always two steps ahead. One might think that He had turned His attention elsewhere, but He was there. Everywhere. In some form—He was there.

Mallus felt God’s power leave him. He watched Aaron’s face, not sure if this mad plan was even going to work.

But if what Mallus believed was true, then this, too, was all part of God’s divine plan.

*   *   *

For a split second Aaron wanted to change his mind.

The little selfish part of him that made him human grew incredibly strong for an instant, almost swaying his decision. But the true Aaron was stronger than that selfish part, and he accepted the gift offered to him.

He reached out for it, to hold between his hands, but the power would have none of that, surging into his chest.

It was like nothing he had ever experienced before, it was like dying, and being born again, over and over. It was like having the sun placed inside you, so wonderful and warm, but deadly hot.

But you don’t want to let it go, enduring the pain for as long as you possibly can, for to release it would be—

Awful.

The energy of God swirled around his soul, before settling in for its stay.

For now.

A soundless explosion of sheer force emanated from his
body, the way in which the force of Heaven let them all know that it was staying. Aaron watched as Mallus’s body was carried away by the silent emission, his now ancient skin and bones dissolving in the force of the blast, leaving nothing behind to show that he had even been there at all.

And as quickly as it had started, the sounds of the world returned, and Aaron found himself quickly turning around to see what this sudden release had wrought.

The concrete garage was still intact, but the walls were cracked in some places, and in others huge chunks had fallen away to litter the floor.

But his main concern was for his family, for Vilma, his mother, Gabriel, and the others. He turned and saw them there, staring at him in awe.

“Are you well, Aaron Corbet?” the Unforgiven Levi asked, carefully approaching.

Aaron did not answer at first, holding his hands out before him and feeling the rush of power to his fingertips.

“Never felt better,” he announced.

“Now, let’s go to war.”

T
he Lord of Shadows saw the memory as the Sisters had.

The natives called it Beth-El.

The House of God.

But the memory was of another time; the passage of many years layered upon it.

Satan opened his eyes to the here and now. He sat on his ancient throne, in a vast and empty chamber. He needed to be alone, as alone as he had been when the Almighty had taken away his place of being with those four catastrophic words—

Let. There. Be. Light.

He cringed, remembering the pain of it, remembering how his world had been torn to ribbons by the razor-sharp light of the Almighty’s creation.

Clinging to what shadows remained, he and his brothers
and sisters had managed to survive. And in doing so, Satan plotted his revenge. The question had always been, what can I do to make you suffer as I have?

The answer had always turned him toward Heaven.

Just the thought of the place was enough to fill him with an intense loathing.

A loathing that spurred him to action.

Satan rose, crossing the empty room, his armored footfalls echoing throughout the chamber.

He threw open the mammoth metal doors, nearly crushing Scox against the wall.

The imp scampered away from harm, while clutching his horn in his clawed hands.

“Did you make the call?” Satan Darkstar asked, turning his gaze to his ever-obedient servant.

“I did,” Scox told him, stroking the musical instrument made from pounded brass and the thighbone from the last of a particularly cruel species.

“And?”

Scox smiled, showing small sharp teeth. “Oh yes,” the imp said. “I blew the horn, and they answered.”

If he was going to lead an invasion of Heaven, Satan was going to need an army. Heaven would not fall easily, of that the Lord of Shadows was sure. He needed every able-bodied beast to join his charge.

Satan strode through his cathedral, Scox following at a safe
distance. He paused before the immense doors that would lead outside.

“How do I look?” he asked Scox, just to be certain that none of his armor was amiss.

“Like the master of the world that you are,” the imp praised him.

The Darkstar could not help but agree.

He nodded to Scox, spurring the imp to action.

The scarlet-skinned demon ran around his master, snapping his bony fingers. From the shadows on either side of the room, great stone beasts lumbered. It was their job to guard the entrance and open the impressive doors when needed.

The golems’ movements appeared synchronized. They reached out, with squared, four-fingered hands to grip the thick metal rings that hung from the center of each door. They pulled upon the rings, and the doors swung inward, the gray light of the world melting the shadow.

Satan breathed in the smell of the sea, tainted with the stink of decay, then strode out to address those who had answered his call.

He was quite pleased indeed. Portals of shadow yawned open, spilling their vile but lovely contents at his doorstep. The Darkstar could hear their many voices, buzzing like flies circling dead flesh.

A hush spread out through the gathering as they noticed their commander’s arrival.

“So nice of you all to come,” his voice boomed so that all could hear. “For it is time to raze the pillars of Heaven!”

A roar went up from the crowd.

He was their leader. They would fight and die for him.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

*   *   *

Lucifer knew what waited behind the door in his subconscious. He had been the one to make it.

It was a large door, and normally it was covered with chains and the most intricate and sturdy of locks. But now, the broken chains and locks lay on the ground at his feet.

His greatest fear had been realized.

Milton the mouse squeaked warily upon his shoulder.

“Yes, it is as bad as I suspected—worse, actually. The monster has gained access.” Lucifer recalled the last time that what lay behind this door was unleashed upon the world.

Milton’s nose twitched, the whiskers on the sides of his snout tickling the flesh of Lucifer’s neck.

“Would you like me to put you down? I’m sure you could run—”

The mouse replied before the Morningstar could finish.

“And there is no other that I would rather have by my side, or on my shoulder.” Lucifer reached up to gently pat the rodent, who remained perched on his shoulder. “So, should we see about getting this nasty business out of the way?”

Milton made a small, guttural sound, and Lucifer understood.

The Morningstar then delivered a powerful kick to the door, shattering what he had created so very long ago to contain the punishment meted out to him by the Lord God Almighty.

The barrier disintegrated before his onslaught, and Lucifer stumbled back as a blast of heat, which stank of blood and despair, assaulted him.