Revelation (Redemption series Book 4) Read online

  I straightened, my gaze finding Conor’s. “Send that request to God. We don’t want to step on His toes.”

  “Even though we’re offering to clean up His mess for Him,” Lucas grumbled.

  I glanced at him. “A mess that I made, Lucas.” I felt Dayton’s eyes on me, but I didn’t look at her. “We wouldn’t be here now if I hadn’t been a selfish young demon who was arrogant enough to not only fall in love with an angel but convince her she loved me as well. It’s a fine line, temptation, and I crossed it.”

  Lucas looked at me. “Sophia’s right you know. As much as I hate to admit it. God has more control than Satan. Heaven is less volatile because of the rules, because angels are expected to be perfect, but as the first Fall proves, we are not always as docile or as perfect as we seem.”

  I smiled, the expression sad. “We all have roles to play. Sometimes it means sacrificing what we love to make sure the world remains the way it should. I should have seen that years ago.”

  Dayton, who’d been silent next to me, looked up. “It’s an honorable thing,” she whispered, “taking the higher path.” Her hand fell to where mine rested against my side. The way she stood no one saw her fingers brush mine. “In a way what we became is what started all of this,” she added. “What we are could end it.”

  My startled gaze fell to hers. She was right, and because of that, this was going to hurt like hell.

  Chapter 15

  Lucifer is weak. I know this because God is stronger, because Lucifer has not exercised the same type of control that God has over Heaven. Despite the demonic blood in our veins, despite the fact that we live off of vice and sin, that doesn’t necessarily mean demons are weaker. It just means we have to feed more off what makes us strong. Lucifer thrives off testing his subjects, using trials to test and kill them. Like a game. That’s where his true weakness lies. Power is never a game.

  ~Luther Craig, the Demon of Lust~

  Dayton

  I’d learned something over the past few years. Life is never easy. There are no handbooks that walk you through the complicated decisions you have to make. There is nothing that tells you which path is the right one. It’s a game of chance, a wicked, terrible game of chance. When you’re not human, it gets even more complicated, even more risky. Even more terrible.

  In many ways, I was still learning that. I was still learning rules that would take a lifetime to learn. I was still battling emotions it would take me forever to overcome.

  My fist found my stomach as I walked up the damaged manor stairwell to the rooms above. The house was falling apart around us, the stone having held up because of Conor. Glass and wood moved beneath my feet, and I stared up at the landing above me, my gaze distant.

  There’d been a point when, even two days ago, I thought I’d figured out love and life. That’s the thing though. It’s when you think you have it figured out that it teaches you that you don’t. Love isn’t supposed to be understood. It’s why it has been so often immortalized in words, in movies, and in our own imaginations. Love is exciting and beautiful, but it’s also tragic.

  My life had become about pain, about sacrifice, and about fear. My love had risen above that. Now that was changing. What Marcas and I shared had always been headed toward a spiraling end. Like a star that rises, and then falls.

  These thoughts chased me into the bedroom, the mess just as bad here as it had been downstairs. The only undamaged piece of furniture was the bed. It’s odd, but I felt like the house, as if what Sophia and Beez had done to me was my earthquake, shaking me up and leaving to wonder what it was I needed to do with my life. Marcas was the king of the hybrids, the leader of an entire half-demon race. What was I? Who could I be if I wanted to?

  A shadow fell over the doorway, and I looked up to find Marcas watching me.

  “This is good-bye isn’t it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, Blainey. I think we’ve got to quit making this relationship and this fight between Heaven and Hell about choices.”

  I smiled. “It does seem like what we’ve become is made up of a lot of complicated decisions.”

  He stepped into the room, wading over the rubble to stand before me, his fingers lifting my chin. “I love you. Never doubt that. No matter what happens to us that will never change. I’ll carry that with me for eternity.”

  “We’ll always be bound,” I whispered. “I won’t ever risk trapping you in the Seal again. Even if it means being apart while still being bound.”

  “But that’s the thing,” Marcas breathed. “There’s where the problem lies. It may be a decision we have to make eventually.”

  My eyes fell closed, and I swallowed hard. “None of this is your fault, you know that right?” I asked.

  Marcas’ fingers tightened on my chin. “I think there’s a lot that could have been avoided if I’d lived my life differently, but the only thing I can do is try my best to fix it.” Opening my eyes, I found his gaze on my lips. “Conor sent a request in to Heaven. In it, we’ve revealed Sophia’s deception, and I’ve asked to clean up the mess I started.”

  My eyes dropped to his mouth, my stomach tightening. “I’m betting God already knows about Sophia.” I sighed. “So, even if God can stop her, you’d still rather do it yourself?”

  “Yeah,” Marcas answered, “I think I have to.”

  I understood that feeling. I understood the need to make right what I believed was wrong. I guess in many ways despite the fact that I loved Marcas so much it hurt, the decision I’d made to be with him years before rather than joining the Fallen angels had been right for me but hadn’t been right for humanity.

  “You’re one tough woman,” Marcas told me, his lips smiling. “I’m all the better for having been bound to you. I’m a stronger leader for having taught you. I’m a better man for having loved you.”

  My gaze moved back to his eyes. “I know you think you’ve done nothing except hurt me. It’s not true. You gave me someone to trust. You gave me a reason to keep living when I was young and naïve and so hurt that living seemed impossible. You gave me a reason to fight for something, and at the time, I needed that. Any pain I suffered was worth that.”

  His eyes darkened. “Not all of the pain was worth it, Blainey.”

  My skin crawled, but I ignored it. “Even that pain will be worth it … over time,” I said. “Even if I hadn’t been with you, I would have faced pain from someone. What I am guarantees that. As a naphil, I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be safe.”

  There was a sound beyond the bedroom door, a loud thunk,thunk and somehow I knew that Conor had returned.

  Marcas’ hands suddenly found my head, his fingers moving into my curly, fiery hair. “look at me,” he demanded. My gaze met his, and his eyes glowed. “Do you remember what you told me the day after you pulled the dagger from my chest?”

  I nodded.

  He smiled. “I know that things have changed, but say it again.”

  I went up on my toes, my head lifted. “Heaven is where ever you are.”

  His eyes fell closed, and my hand found the place on his chest where the dagger had entered his heart.

  I pressed it through the T-shirt. “I’ll always be caught between two worlds, Marcas. Light and dark.”

  His eyes re-opened. “Not light and dark. Just light and grey. You’ll always be stuck between Heaven and earth, the same way the Fallen are.”

  I stared at him, my heart clenching. His words rang true. Too true. “I guess now that I think about it, I was wrong about that, too. God, I was young. Remember the dream I used to have? Light and dark. The fall.” I shook my head, my eyes wide. “That was always you, wasn’t it? With human and angel blood, I’m caught between Heaven and humanity. With your blood, you’re caught between all of it.”

  His answering smile was sad. “All of Cain and Lilith’s children are.”

  My palm pushed harder against his shirt. “I’ll never be like Sophia.”

  Marcas winced. “God, I hope not. I’m
beginning to think my love is corruptive.”

  “No,” I told him. “Your love is power. You just have to know when to use it and when to let go of it.”

  He bent, his head lowering over mine. “I told you that you were nothing like her.”

  I just had enough time to smile before his lips crashed down over mine. Heat … so much heat.

  His hands dragged up into my hair, clutching it and pulling it. I seized the fabric of his T-shirt between us, my knuckles white with the grip, my chest rising and falling.

  I wasn’t just kissing him, I was crying, my tears wetting my cheeks even as his tongue entered my mouth, tangling with mine.

  Tears and fire.

  That’s what good-bye tasted like.

  A knock pulled us apart, and we separated, our gazes flying to the door, Marcas’ frame looming over mine. Conor stood in the doorway, his sympathetic gaze meeting mine before moving to Marcas’. In many ways, Conor understood more than most what mine and Marcas’ relationship was becoming. He and Emma had to sacrifice their own love in the name of duty. One day, they planned to be together for good, but for now, until things changed, the gargoyles wouldn’t accept Emma.

  “Marcas,” Conor began, a piece of rock, almost like a miniature stone tablet held in his hands . “You’ve been summoned to Heaven. You’ve been asked to stand before God. Alone.”

  Chapter 16

  It’s funny the things that people think they know about angels and demons, and about how their world works. There are so many stories, so many things that make up the world I live in. To be a part of Hell is to be part of a caste system, a place where you have to decide if you want to have power or if you want to suffer for not having it. There are Kings, Queens, Princes, Dukes, Earls, Sins, and so many more. There are kingdoms, there is the Abyss, there is the level of Treachery, and there is the Eternal Lake of Fire. It is a world of darkness, a world of pain, and a world of lies.

  ~Luther Craig, the Demon of Lust~

  Marcas

  It seems a grand thing to be asked to stand before God, as if there should be this huge ceremony, leagues of angels surrounding you as you enter the great gates.

  It was nothing like that.

  I simply flew upward, past stormy apocalyptic lightning and lava-filled fissures toward the sky, toward the otherworld veil between Heaven and Earth that only those with divine and demon blood could pass through. Humans would never know it existed.

  Upward I went, past the third level of Heaven and into the second, a place just as beautiful as the third level, only without the cruelty. It was the home of the Dominions, Virtues, and Powers. These were the angels who presided over nations, miracles, and history. Even so, I never set eyes on one, their absence more disconcerting than the angry mobs I’d expected.

  My jaw tensed as I entered the first level, the home of the Seraphim, the Cherubim, and the Thrones. These were the angels Lucas and Sophia had once been a part of, the perfect beings who worked directly with God.

  “Marcas,” a voice called.

  I landed among a world of light. Heaven wasn’t the streets of gold and large mansions that many humans thought it was. It was a breathtaking, glorious stretch of silver and white spirits, of happy memories, of love and comfort. Even as sullied as my soul was, my heart hurt to see it.

  “Marcas,” the voice called again.

  It echoed, surrounding me, digging into my skin and down into my soul, and it burned.

  “I should kneel,” I called, “but I’m not sure who I’m supposed to kneel before.”

  A great blinding light appeared before me, so massive and bright I had to look away.

  “It’s confusing,” His voice answered, “when there is so much conflict in your blood.”

  “Tell me,” I asked. “Why did you call me?”

  “Ah,” the painful voice answered, “I received your request, and I’ve accepted it. You have full permission to take care of Sophia.” He moved toward me. “I have to admit the two of you have caused me quite a bit of trouble, especially you.”

  My eyes remained on the ground, the sound of his voice causing my teeth to clench. “You’ll have to excuse my response, but I’m not sure what you want from me. I’d ask you for forgiveness, but I think my kind is beyond that.”

  He laughed, the sound so beautiful I felt my eyes burn. “You’re a blunt man, Marcas Craig. I’ve been watching you for a long time.”

  My head shot up, and then immediately returned to the ground. “Why?” My brows furrowed, fear burrowing down into my heart. I wasn’t worried about me. I was worried about Dayton.

  The light moved, and I realized He was sitting, a massive golden throne materializing behind him.

  “I’ve reigned over a lot of great men, Marcas Craig, some of them wiser than others. Some of them great sinners. One of them was King Solomon. You remind me a lot of him, not in character, but because of your conflicted heart.”

  “Is my heart the reason I’m here?”

  “No,” He answered. “You’re here because of your father, because of the different blood that runs through your veins.

  Suddenly, great pressure pressed in on me, like a giant boulder forcing me toward the ground. I fought it, but in the end, my knees met a floor of pure light.

  “In many ways the curse I placed on your father has put you here,” He said. “The son of a demon and a cursed half-mortal man raised in darkness, and yet over the years you’ve managed to fall for an angel and a naphil, make yourself a part of ancient history, built a great kingdom for hybrid-demons who choose not to live in Hell, and saved the daughter of Bezaliel. I’ll admit, I’m impressed.”

  I started to speak, but the pressure on me grew, a warning to remain silent.

  “I feel mercy for the sons and daughters of Cain, for the bloodlust and the darkness his curse has caused you. Your brother, Damon, was an evil man, destroyed by that curse and by your mother’s blood. Tell me, Marcas, do you believe your brother was right?”

  “Right?” I asked. “About what?”

  “Redemption for your kind,” He answered.

  I stiffened, my muscles clenching. “No,” I said shortly. “There is no redemption for our kind.”

  “I see,” His voice bellowed, “and if I could promise you redemption.”

  I froze, my gaze on the way my fists clenched before me. “I don’t think I’m following.”

  A great light exploded behind me, and I braced for pain. None came.

  “Your kind will never be allowed in Heaven,” His voice continued. “Because of your mother’s blood, you will always suffer the darkness of Hell, but it can stop with you. Your blood can be the key to change for the second generation of children born from Cain’s bloodlines, not from your mother’s, but for children your father bore with human women who are cursed with the same hatred and bloodlust you often suffer.”

  I stared at the light below me. “Why me?”

  He chuckled. “Because, out of all of the children ever born from Cain, whether demon or human, you have been the only one who has ever reached out to me. Do you think I’ve not noticed that you talked to the Heavens, that you found yourself attracted to the divine? As the first born son of not only Cain and Lilith but all of Cain’s bloodline, my blood runs thickest in you.”

  My eyes widened. “And what would you have me do?” I asked. “In what way would I bring Cain’s children redemption?”

  Words spilled into my skull, no longer spoken aloud, quick and furious whispers that made me clutch my head, my mind bursting with the pain of it all, my gasps loud.

  “What?” I choked.

  “You have time to decide, Marcas,” His voice said. “When the world is righted, I will send for you.”

  Shakily, I stood, the pressure no longer holding me down.

  “Why?” I asked. “Why are you letting earth suffer when you could have already squashed Sophia’s rebellion.”

  “Because,” His voice answered, the sound of it growing fainter and fain
ter, “it often takes great adversity for men to appreciate what they have.”

  With that, he was gone, leaving me standing in a white and silver world, his echoing words promising the sons of Cain redemption … for a price.

  Chapter 17

  I’ve always wanted power, always wanted to be more than what I am. This is partly due to my childhood, to the way my mother used me as her executioner, and partly due to what humans have done to me. Humans who have summoned me using my demonic name, and then ordered me to do heinous things in the name of power. It is because of them I made myself a promise, a promise to be powerful enough that no one, and I mean no one, will ever tell me what to do again.

  ~Luther Craig, the Demon of Lust~

  Dayton

  Marcas had barely been gone an hour when all hell broke loose ... literally.

  “Dear God!” Abner shouted, his following shrieks rising in volume. “They’re going to kills us! They’re going to ravage our bodies and steal our souls!”

  We were gathered in the hallway of S.O.S. headquarters. Conor had not only returned with his message for Marcas, but a league of gargoyles, all of them briefed quickly on the coming fight with Beez and Sophia. They mingled now in the hallways and downstairs rooms, their bodies tense with anticipation.

  Outside, the skies filled with demons.

  “They’re going to peel away our skin and burn us with hellfire!” Abner screamed.

  “Good God!” Luther yelled, his face hard as he walked past us to the door, “Would you please shut up! Those are my demons.”

  Startled, I moved to stand next to him in the entryway, my gaze on the dark figures in the air above us, some of them flying, the rest stalking forward over the steaming earth.

  “And so they rose from the portals of Hell,” Luther murmured, amused.

  His reverent words sent fear trickling down my spine. “I hadn’t realized how strong you’d gotten, Luther.”