Authors: SM Reine
That can’t kill me
, Lachesis said.
“I know,” Elise said, bringing the sword back around and lunging.
She lunged right through the barely-corporeal demon—and plunged her blade into the back of the nearest hybrid.
Elise felt his heart beating on the point of her sword. He arched away from the circle, ripping himself free as he turned. Piercing his heart wouldn’t be enough. It healed too quickly as long as his wings were still attached, in much the same way that angels healed.
But he turned away from the circle to give Elise his attention, and that was one less hybrid beating against Brianna’s wards.
The howling of werewolves came closer. Furred bodies began leaping into the crevasse—not the spirit beasts, but the real thing, each of them the size of small horses with fangs that glistened in the light from Brianna’s spell.
They leaped on the hybrids.
Elise would have loved to watch the fight. She’d always admired Rylie’s ability to chew through those bastards—the gore was a beautiful sight. But Lachesis had phased to shadow and wrapped around her, blinding Elise to her surroundings, contracting on her body like a dark fist.
Lachesis was pushing her again, dragging her away from the circle.
“No,” Elise said.
She flashed out of the Fate’s grip, landing on the upper lip of the crevasse. Away from the battle. She looked down on the circle of magic encompassing Lilith’s statue and her heart sank when she saw how much the hybrids had weakened the wards by beating against them. Brianna’s magic was dimming.
But the witch gave a shout of triumph.
“Yeah, suck on that, you ugly dicks!” she cried, pumping her fists in the air.
Brianna had finished the ritual.
Lilith was shifting where she stood, as though the statue had come alive. She lifted her hands above her head, tipping her face back, tail uncoiling from around her body.
The gateway to Eden appeared like a spear of light touching the tip of Lilith’s serpentine tail. Lightning arced through space and spread wide.
Wait
, Lachesis said.
She had just noticed what was missing.
Abram wasn’t present to spill his blood on the altar, yet Lilith’s lock was opening.
The Fate slammed into the wards at the edge of the circle. Now that the ritual was complete, the magic was fraying faster, and it shuddered under assault.
Elise leaped off of the ridge with both swords lifted. She landed on Lachesis feet-first and jammed both blades into her shadowy body, driving her down to the ground.
They landed together—inside the circle.
The wards were broken.
“Run,” Elise snapped at Anthony.
“You don’t have to tell me.” He yanked Brianna off of her feet as easily as though she were a child and hauled her toward the mouth of the crevasse.
The hybrids were too busy fighting the pack to try to stop Anthony. Already three of Belphegor’s unholy creations were dead, leaving just two more surviving. They gushed blood under the teeth and claws of the werewolves.
Not bad for a tiny army without an Alpha to guide them.
The gateway to Eden was still spreading open, crackling wildly. Its light burned as bright as Nash’s wings, but the texture of it was different, less ethereal. It felt like actual sunlight.
Where is he?
Lachesis raged.
Where is the descendant of Adam?
The gate blew wide open below Elise without a drop of blood spilled on the altar. She felt the wind whipping around her, smelled the sweet apples of the forest, sensed the pull of Nathaniel on the other side. It was a bright, clear day in Eden, and it made Elise’s skin itch.
Elise arched her eyebrows in feigned surprise. “What, did Belphegor expect to find him here?”
Where?
Lachesis hissed.
“Somewhere you’ll never find him,” Elise said.
“There,” Ariane said.
“It’s done.”
Abram stepped back from the altar in Zebul, the Heavenly dimension of temples, and shook out his wounded hand. “Great. Just great.”
The gateway to Eden rumbled as the statue changed, and Abel knew that all the other gates would be opening with it. Ariane was good at what she did. Eden was about to open wide.
This particular statue looked like Adam, the first man from whom Seth and Abram were descended. Abel had spent about an hour staring at it, bored out of his mind, as Ariane finished the ritual. He didn’t see a resemblance between that thing and anyone in Abel’s family.
Of course, Abram’s blood had done the job. So apparently the resemblance ran a lot deeper than the skin.
Adam’s hands were outspread, his chin lifted as though looking over a world that he had conquered. The stone groaned softly as his hands turned to face the ground.
Abel didn’t watch as the light of the portal flared under his palms. He kept watching Zebul. It probably had been pretty once, with the temples on top of spindly mountains and all the forests and shit. Now the waterfalls were all magma. Everything smelled like ass—well, brimstone—and the air was clogged with smoke.
He sniffed the smoky air. No demons yet—but it wouldn’t be long before Belphegor figured out he’d been fooled and came looking for them.
“What do we do now that it’s open?” Abram asked.
“Elise suggested we stay here,” Ariane said, shuffling around behind Abel, presumably to clean up her ritual. “I know a route through the sinkholes back to the mountaintop, but she didn’t believe it would be safe.”
That was where all of Belphegor’s anger would be smashing down. Right where they had left Summer behind with only Nash to keep an eye on her.
Abram seemed to be thinking the same thing. “We should go help them.”
“Like hell we should,” Levi said. “We don’t owe anyone anything. Let’s get out of here. Let’s run. Let’s find some corner of the universe that isn’t on fire yet and let everyone else worry about the end.”
“You think that’s any solution? Hiding?” Abram growled.
“I’m not suicidal.”
Abel snorted. “Asshole,” he muttered.
“What was that?” Levi said. “You got a problem with me?”
He finally turned to look at the circle and the statue of Adam again. The door to Eden was still open, revealing a much quieter world on the other side—one filled with swaying trees, sparkling leaves, and blue skies. There wasn’t a hint of smoke.
Levi stood in front of it, glaring at Abel.
He wanted a fight? Abel could give him a fight.
“Yeah, I’ve got a problem,” Abel said. “Why don’t you run off with your tail between your legs so I don’t have to keep looking at my problem?”
Levi’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going anywhere without Abram.”
“Why’s that?”
“Are you stupid?” Levi asked. “Have you still not figured out that I’m fucking Rylie’s kid?”
Abel crossed the circle in two strides and punched Levi in the face.
It wasn’t the first time he’d done it, and he sure as hell hoped it wouldn’t be the last time. The day he stopped punching that asshole in the face was the day that one or both of them were dead, and probably the world gone with them.
He struck hard enough to send him sprawling over the floor of the temple, sliding until he bumped into the wall.
“Hey!” Abram said sharply.
“What?” Abel asked.
The younger man punched him in the face. Abel was sure that it was a pretty powerful punch, as far as humans could deliver, but Abel was a werewolf. It barely made him stagger.
“Boys! Behave yourselves!” Ariane snapped.
“Some gratitude,” Abel growled at Abram, ignoring the witch as she tried to get between them.
“Gratitude? For what?” Abram scoffed. “Being a violent ape?”
“For protecting you from that cockface.” He thrust a finger toward Levi. He still hadn’t really wrapped his head around the claim that Levi and Abram were involved—some part of him didn’t want to deal with it, and just didn’t accept it.
If it was true—if Levi wasn’t just making up horrible crap to piss Abel off—then it was even worse.
“I don’t need your protection. I’m not even your son,” Abram said.
Abel already knew that, but hearing the words made the shock flood over him anew, like he was hearing it the first time all over again. Abram was the product of Rylie and Seth. The dream couple. Practically the football player and cheerleader grown up and making babies together.
One more reminder that life wasn’t what Abel had thought it was, and definitely not what anyone had wanted it to be.
But Abel gripped him by the shoulder, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Look. Rylie and Seth are dead. Both of them—gone. You don’t have any parents. I don’t have my brother or my mate. But we’re still family, you and me, and I don’t give a shit about what twist of fate or magic or werewolf biology made it so that you didn’t come from me. You’re as good as my son. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He glared at Levi on the ground. “I’m sure as hell not letting that asshole mess with you.”
“He’s not messing with me.” Abram hesitated then said, “I love him.” He managed to make that almost sound like an insult.
Abel’s anger defused, but only a fraction.
So it was true. Abram and Levi.
At another time, Abel would have stewed over it. Gotten angry. Probably punched Levi a few more times, and then dwelled over how sickening it was before hitting him again.
They didn’t have time for that much anger now, and Abram had said the magic word anyway.
“Love.” Abel snorted.
Those fucking Greshams. Worst taste in men possible. Family curse or something.
“I know what you think about gay people,” Abram said. “Levi told me. You and Seth both, the way you treated him in high school.”
He thought this was about being gay?
Sure, it was gross and weird, but it would have been gross and weird for Summer to be with Levi, too. Levi was a huge asswipe. Rylie’s oldest adversary. The grossness of being gay was vastly eclipsed by the general grossness of Levi.
“I don’t care about the gay…thing,” Abel said. Whatever the hell he was supposed to call it. “I care about the fact that it’s
Levi
. Why
him
?”
Abram shrugged. “I don’t know. Just how it worked out.”
For some reason, that answer made way too much sense.
Why had Abel wanted to be with Rylie, his brother’s girlfriend? Some scrawny blond werewolf girl?
Just how it worked out.
Instead of responding, Abel walked over and offered Levi a hand. He was still bleeding from his nose, which wasn’t likely to heal any time soon, considering Abel was Alpha and all.
Levi looked suspiciously at Abel’s hand.
“Take it,” Abel said. He did. Abel pulled him to his feet. Miraculously, he resisted the urge to punch Levi in the face again, even though he deserved it. “You’re just with him to piss me off, aren’t you?”
Levi glared. “It’s a bonus. But that’s not the only reason.”
“Don’t provoke him,” Abram said, elbowing his boyfriend.
His boyfriend, for fuck’s sake.
He hesitated, and then said, “Thanks, Abel.”
Abel grunted and turned to go to the window.
He felt a hand on his arm. When he turned around, Abram gave him a half-hug—one of those manly gestures with the brief pat on the back.
“Goddammit,” Abel said, and he gave Abram a
real
hug, one with both arms and werewolf strength. Still brief. It was the only way he knew to say that he loved Abram just like he loved Summer, even if Abram was Seth’s son, and he wanted to be better for them. For their sakes, for Rylie’s sake, maybe even for his sake.
It was the last chance they had for that. The gates to Eden were open, and the end had come.
They didn’t have enough time to leave regrets between them.
“They’re coming,” Ariane announced softly.
She was right. When the wind picked up again, Abel could smell demons approaching. He peered through the smoke outside to see darkness swirling over the mountains, rushing toward them.
Guess it was time to run.
“You said you know a path through the sinkholes,” Abel said, even as he reached out to the spirit wolves. They appeared around him. They’d been there the entire time—he thought they would probably always be with him now—but they waited until he wanted them to show. Nice thing, too. It was a little unsettling being followed everywhere by ghosts.
Ariane grabbed her bag off the floor and slung it over her shoulder. “Across the bridge. This way.”
She raced across the temple, feet ringing against the blue-tiled floor. The building was ringed by white pillars, its walls painted with murals of angels working at looms.
Levi and Abram followed. Abel hung back, watching the army approach.
It looked like Belphegor had sent the whole thing for them. There had to be hundreds of demons swirling toward the temple, skimming over the trees.
Abel felt the wolves’ excitement around him. They were ready for the fight.
He turned to race after his companions, but they’d stopped on the bridge just outside the doors.
“
Merde
,” Ariane said.
Another segment of the army blocked the only path out of the temple. The same Fate that had attacked James in the library was at their lead—the pale woman who looked like Elise. She still bore the wounds of the wolf spirits who had torn into her. Ichor caked her arms and throat.
She looked pissed.
“Get her,” Abel said, and the wolves leaped from behind him.
They attacked her again. He could feel their anger, their excitement. He felt her fists and feet strike them. Every blow ached deep in his gut.
He dragged Abram back from the bridge as they ripped into her, and the others followed, jumping into the temple.
There was nowhere else to run. That bridge was the only way out.
The bridge, or the gateway to Eden.
“What are you waiting for?” Levi asked, standing on the edge of the portal.
“We can’t go into Eden,” Abram said, balking when Levi took his arm.
“You want to stay here and die?”
It didn’t sound like a great alternative.
“Fine,” Abel said. “Let’s go.”
The vision of the garden shimmered. It shifted.