Revelation (Redemption series Book 4) Page 2

  Chapter 3

  The balance between Heaven and Hell is a tentative one. It isn’t the threat of war that mortals should be worried about. It’s the greed of gods. Take me, for example. I have a thing for time. Clocks are a beautiful thing, tick-tick-ticking away the hours, minutes, and seconds as if time is supposed to mean something. Time means nothing, but it is a beautiful dream. I keep the clocks because the ticking reminds me that time always runs out.

  ~Luther Craig, the Demon of Lust~

  Dayton

  Marcas was angry. He didn’t have to be scowling for me to know that. With Marcas, I’d had to learn to read subtle body language because he’d taught himself throughout the years that emotions were dangerous. It made me sad for him.

  He marched away from Abner, leaving the prophet in the custody of Alessandro and his men, and I followed. Thanks to Marcas’ blood, the wound on my stomach had closed, leaving only weakness and the memory of pain. His gash had vanished long before mine, leaving his black T-shirt a drying mess against his skin. There were a lot of things about the bond we’d learned over the years, one being that no matter how powerful we were or how immortal, my body still took hits worse than his.

  “War, Marcas,” I said from behind him.

  He’d moved into the manor, stepping into the parlor where I’d first met and deceived Alessandro. The room hadn’t changed much over the years.

  Marcas leaned over a writing desk in the corner, his fists planted against the surface, the muscles in his back bunching as his head lowered. “Heaven and Hell,” he murmured, his head shaking. “The fight never ends.”

  I stepped toward him. “I chose damnation when I re-bound us,” I said. “What if I chose Hell? For good.”

  Marcas glanced back at me, his stone-like expression firmly in place. It didn’t matter. What his face never showed, his eyes always did. They darkened. “You can’t make that choice. Neither of us can. When we took the Outer Levels of Hell, we chose Exile. It’s kept us safe from men like Abner, from the leagues of angels I feel watching us every day.”

  Closing the distance between us, I rested my palms against his lower back, running my hands from his waist up to his shoulders and back down again, my fingers skirting under the hem of his T-shirt and over the raised tattoo on his back. The cobra.

  Marcas exhaled, reaching down to pull the blood stained tee over his head, exposing the red-eyed snake.

  I continued to touch him, kneading muscles, my calm powers mingling with his fiery ones, soothing him. And me, too, if I was being honest.

  “Dayton,” he sighed, his fists pushing into the desk’s surface before he turned, growling, his hands dropping to my waist. He lifted me, setting me on the edge of the desk, his rough fingers jerking my damaged tank over my head.

  The door to the parlor was open, but it didn’t matter to either of us. The only thing that mattered was the moment, that low fire that always burned between us. We’d moved our relationship to the next level years ago. When I was with Marcas, it was more than sex, it felt like being consumed from the inside out.

  “We’re not healthy,” I gasped. “This … us.”

  Marcas shoved the contents of the desk to the floor, his eyes reddening as he leaned over me, his hands falling to the waistband of my yoga pants.

  Behind us, Marcas’s power slammed the door, the lock clicking into place, the electric feel of it running along my skin.

  Our clothes had been discarded, my hips pulled to the edge of the desk, when I looked at him. “I’d burn with you. You know that, right?”

  He stared at me, one hand gripping my waist, the other pulling at my hair. “Just burn with me now, Blainey.”

  We were trapped in a twisted circle, in a world where it wasn’t okay to be us. When he thrust into me, coming home, we both exhaled. Because, in the end, we knew that even though we’d burn for each other, we cared too much about too many people to let the world burn with us.

  Two sides of a coin, a spinning one that was growing slower and slower, and it was destined to fall.

  For now, we burned, the fire exploding in a world of ecstasy.

  That was before the world fell apart.

  Chapter 4

  There are disturbing things transpiring in Hell. The souls are screaming. My witch feels them more than I do. Her thrashing in the sheets at night keeps me on edge, the visions I see behind her eyes cause my blood to boil while filling me with a desire so big it consumes me. It’s not a passionate fire. Those I satisfy with my lover. This fire makes my dark heart beat harder. Monroe knows me well. When she wakes, her eyes catching mine, she sees the burning glow in my gaze. What makes me love her is that, despite what many believe, she shares the same desire. She is my queen of darkness.

  ~Luther Craig, the Demon of Lust~

  Marcas

  As much as I loathed the prophet who’d attempted to kill us, the first sign that his dreams may be right about a war between Heaven and Hell were the storms.

  The afternoon after our visit from Abner, dark clouds moved over the land, like rolling smoke, strange blue lightning shooting from the vaporous depths to the ground, the strikes so powerful, they threw entire cities into darkness.

  “It’s not just here,” Dayton said. “The news is showing these storms all over the planet, some worse than others. The lightning near Australia is red.”

  We’d gathered in the dining room of the S.O.S manor. Alessandro was seated with Dayton and I near the front of the table. To the side of us was Maria, Alessandro’s mother. She was a seer, a mortal blessed to be able to discern the difference between angels, demons, and mortals. She was an old woman, black hair mostly changed to white, pulled back tight on her head. A house dress covered her frame, a rosary swinging around her neck. Though aged, I’d known her when she was much younger. She’d been an earthly affair of mine, and though I regretted how our relationship had ended, we’d maintained an interesting, stoic, and even angry friendship over the years.

  She looked at me now. “Ah, demonio,” she exhaled. “Now the real test begins.”

  Abner, who’d been brought in bound by the hands and feet, struggled in his chair at the far end of the table. “It’s started!” he cried. “The end of the world!”

  Maria scowled at him. “For a prophet, you are a dense man. Have you not learned that while your dreams are a gift, they can also be deceiving?”

  Abner glared at her. “You dare speak to me! You, a holy woman who allies herself with devils!”

  Maria snorted. “Oh, curse you! Before you speak, you should make yourself more aware of your situation.”

  “He’s blinded by faith,” another voice cut in suddenly.

  My gaze rose to find Emma Chase—Alessandro’s daughter, and a powerful hybrid demon who’d been living under mine and Dayton’s protection for years—standing at the entrance to the dining room. She’d earned her place, not only among our ranks, but as the girlfriend of the gargoyle Director, Conor Reinhardt.

  She stepped into the room, her gaze riveted on the prophet. Her powers gave her the ability to feed off of other people’s emotions, and she shuddered as she stared at him.

  “Faith can be a beautiful thing,” she told him, “unless you let it dull your senses.”

  Abner’s cheeks puffed as he exhaled. “And who are you to have the right to judge me?”

  She smiled, her eyes glowing red. “Your enemy.” Her gaze passed from the prophet to me. “My father sent for me,” she said, nodding at Alessandro. “If what Dad is telling me is true, if this man’s predictions are anywhere near legit, it may be time to rally the hybrids.”

  Emma, even as harmless as she appeared with her thin reed frame, dark hair, and angelic face, had recently become one of the leaders of my army.

  I inclined my head, my hand rubbing at the stubble on my jaw. “I’m not sure that’s a wise idea. If my relationship with Dayton is causing the tides to change, then it will only endanger the kingdom we’ve created.”

  “
It just doesn’t make sense,” Dayton mumbled. “If this was because of us, then why have we only seen a prophet.” She waved her hand at Abner. “Why have there been no angels or demons, no trumpets of war.”

  My gaze flicked to hers. “Because I’m not so sure this has to do with us.” I’d had a lot of time to think about Abner’s words through the night, the threat he’d laid out for us. “It may have everything to do with me.”

  Maria frowned. “That is the trouble with celestial interference. The demonio has tested the realms on more than one occasion, first with Sophia …” I grimaced, but she threw me a stern, quelling look, “and then when he didn’t force Dayton to purge herself of his blood.” Her gaze passed between me and Dayton. “God came to your assistance on that mountain in Petra. Then, rather than choose sides, you chose none. This may not be a war. This may be a warning. Make a choice or the Earth faces retribution.”

  “The Almighty wouldn’t do that!” Abner protested.

  Emma stood quietly next to the table, her palms coming to rest against the surface. “So the time to choose has come.” She glanced at me. “If you won’t call in the hybrids, then it may be time to call in your allies.”

  Dayton leaned toward me. “She’s right. Conor will have the inside information for the gargoyles.”

  “And Lucas,” Maria added, “will be able to tell you what’s going on among the Fallen.”

  “Did someone call me?” a male voice interjected. It was a beautiful voice, a deep, hypnotic one that drove most humans to their knees.

  My gaze came up to meet the man in question, the one who’d just materialized out of thin air. Lucas, a leader of the Fallen angels, the angel who’d helped me fight a war for the hybrids’ freedom, who’d helped protect Dayton, and who’d recently fought with my brother against the seven deadly sins of Hell. He was nothing if not ambitious.

  With his loose white, button-up shirt, golden hair, and tall, muscled frame, he looked every bit the angel he’d once been.

  Looking at Dayton, he winked. “And here I thought all that lightning outside was fireworks for me.”

  “Arrogance,” Dayton mumbled, “is not becoming.”

  Lucas shrugged. “One of the virtues of the Fallen. The Demons are worse.” He smiled. “Your father sends warm wishes, naphil. He’d have come himself if he still wasn’t bound by the restrictions Heaven placed on him for having been with your mother. Bezaliel may have been able to help you before, but any disagreements between Heaven and Hell are off limits.”

  Dayton shrugged, her eyes sad. “I know. He’s done what he can.”

  Lucas sauntered forward, his gaze passing over the table. “Now, enough with the sentiments. We’ve got bigger issues to deal with.” His eyes clashed with mine. “If the rumors among the Fallen are any indication, the Earth is in for a much rougher ride.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.

  Lucas sighed. “Let’s just say what’s coming your way is worse than a war between Heaven and Hell. You’re going to need your brother on this one.”

  Dayton groaned. As much as we all cared about my brother, Luther Craig, I was the only one who didn’t truly fear him. Truth was, he was as much a monster as the monsters he lived among. The day his twin sister, Lexi, had been killed by Dayton years before, it was believed by most that the more evil of the twins had been destroyed. Oh, how wrong they were! Lexi hadn’t been the more evil of the two, she’d just been as insane as my own deceased twin.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me, Lucas,” I warned.

  Lucas frowned. “I won’t reveal what I know until I’m sure it’s true. We need to know what’s going on in Hell. As for the gargoyles,” he glanced at Emma, “we could use your boy, Conor. He may have more direct information from Heaven than I do.”

  Standing, I faced the Fallen angel. “And if what you know is true?” I asked.

  Lucas’s eyes darkened. “Then we’ll be lucky if Earth survives the blow. Forget everything you ever thought you knew about the apocalypse. If what I know is true, the seas will fill with blood.”

  Chapter 5

  Envy is an odd thing. It’s a bulb that burrows deep, digging through stone and dirt and sand. There’s nothing it can’t take root in or anchor itself to. It keeps growing. She was the root. Continuously growing and digging herself into a life she couldn’t escape from. Envy propels society. Even when people hurt the most, when they have nothing, they want more than what they need. Even the most generous and beautiful of souls want the world. Greed wants everything for himself. Envy wants more than she needs but not always at the cost of others. Sometimes, envy becomes greed or hate. Envy alone is a want that never goes away. Envy is a grenade. Kept pinned, it can often be an asset, something that motivates you to try harder, to work harder. Unpinned, however, ... BOOM! I don’t envy. I just want. However, she … she envies.

  ~Luther Craig, the Demon of Lust~

  Dayton

  A few hours later, and the only people left in the dining room were me and Maria. Marcas had gone with Emma to see Conor before traveling to Luther’s kingdom in Hell. As for Lucas, I didn’t question what he did. The Fallen angel had unusual and creative ways to gather information.

  The dining room was dark, the only light coming from the dim chandelier above our heads, and the occasional flashes of blue lightning.

  My gaze slid to the window, to the wild, churning clouds above the earth.

  “This is it,” I whispered. “The truth of it all. I always wondered when the decision we made would catch up to us.”

  Maria leaned forward in her seat, her wrinkled hands clasping each other on the table. “No, Dayton,” she replied. “This is the ugly truth. The ugly part is what makes it true.”

  Standing, I walked to the window. Thick flashes of light hit the ground in the distance. This lightning was different, not just in color, but in the way it found the earth. There was nothing jagged about it. It was just straight and thick, like a glowing arrow shot from the sky.

  “Do you think we were wrong all those years ago?” I asked her, my gaze finding her face.

  She watched me, her expression softening. “No, I don’t think there was any other choice. You did what you had to do, not only for you and Marcas, but for the hybrids. Your decision created an entire new kingdom and gave half-demons the freedom to choose.” She stood, clutching her rosary. “But what was good then, may not be good now.” She looked at the sky, her eyes widening suddenly, her fingers growing rigid around her necklace.

  “Child,” Maria rasped, “We need to move.”

  The fear in Maria’s face made me freeze, the blood in my veins running cold. Slowly, my eyes shifted to the window, my pulse quickening when I caught sight of the two forms in the storm beyond. Two forms, one a ball of fire, the other a ball of light, moving toward us.

  “What is that?” I breathed.

  Maria’s hand found my arm, and she tugged at me hard. “That, child, is an angel and a demon.” Her gaze shot to my face. “Marcas was right. This has everything to do with him.”

  “What?”

  She continued to pull at me, tugging me through the dining room.

  I tugged back. “Maria—”

  Tears were streaming down the old woman’s face, her fingers trembling against my arm. “I can’t stop this,” she sobbed. “Oh, heaven’s be, I can’t stop this.”

  My heart stuttered, a numb chill encompassing my spine. “Maria, who is that in the storm?”

  She gripped me, pulling me into the hall, her hands digging into my flesh. Above and around us were voices, cries from the members of the S.O.S who protected the manor, cries from the men and women who lived there.

  “What is that?” a woman upstairs cried.

  “Get everyone ready,” a man yelled.

  Maria’s fingers were hurting me, her tear-reddened eyes catching mine. “Fight, Dayton. Use every power and strength available to you and fight.”

  “Maria—” I
began, but whatever words I’d meant to say, whatever actions I’d meant to take were stopped when the front door blew inward, shards of glass and wood flying around us, the slivers highlighted by lightning.

  Upstairs and downstairs, people screamed.

  “Don’t look at them!” Maria hollered. “Don’t look!”

  The warning did not go unheeded. The men and women who’d been yelling before were hushed now, hunkered down against the threat in front of us.

  I looked because I didn’t have a choice. I looked because I was part angel, and whoever these beings were, they’d come for me. I knew that by the way Maria continued to sob, her gaze averted.

  At first, I saw nothing but a massive, human-sized ball of flame and light, but past that, once my eyes had started to adjust, I saw the truth, the ugly truth. I saw what the flames and light hid.

  “Hello, naphil,” a voice greeted.

  I stared, my heart sinking. “What have you done?” I asked.

  Behind me, Maria whimpered. She never whimpered.

  “I’ve been offered something,” the voice told me, “something I couldn’t refuse. I would tell you I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

  I’d been betrayed a lot in my life. Betrayal wasn’t something new to me, but this …

  “Why?” I whispered.

  The voice laughed, larger than life behind the ball of light. “Because I can.”

  With those words, my world went black, Maria’s scream heralding the spiraling darkness.

  Chapter 6

  My brother, Marcas, is a hybrid king, mighty and just. As the first born son of our father, Cain, he also holds the key to a power even greater than mine. He’ll never use it for what I intend to use mine for. Because, in truth, there’s also more goodness in him than there is in me. We both have the capacity to be better than our demonic halves, but where my need for power goes hand in hand with the love I share with Monroe, Marcas has long since tired of power. Our mother did that to him. She used him too often, used him as her spear. She drove him into the sands of Egypt, into the whirlwind of madness. He and Damon as the first born sons felt, and in Marcas’ case, still feel the bloodlust more than the rest. It’s enough to drive the average man insane. After years of turmoil, war, heartache, bloodshed, and loss, all Marcas wants is peace. All I want is revenge, the authority to give my brother what he needs while getting the power I crave.