Bittersweet Darkness (The Order #3)

In that moment, he decided. He’d take what Raphael had offered. Only he would ask for another life. If they saved Faith, he would give them Roz. Somehow.

And he would live with the decision. Presumably, alone, because this would prove once and for all that he was the monster she’d called him. He went back to the bed and scooped her up in his arms, so her long dark hair drifted down.

“What are you doing?” Ryan asked.

“I’m saving her.”

She seemed so fragile as he carried her out and into the courtyard. He sensed Ryan behind him but ignored the other man. Once outside, he changed his form, his wings sprouting from his shoulders. He was aware of a door opening, Tara and Christian running toward him, but it hardly impinged on his consciousness.

He gathered her close.

Tara was talking with Ryan now, low and urgent, but nothing to do with him. He had to get away, before anyone thought to stop him.

He launched himself into the air.

“Father!”

Shock stopped his upward flight and he hovered, staring down to where his daughter stood below in the courtyard. She’d never called him father before.

He remained silent. There was nothing to say.

“She wouldn’t want this,” Tara called. “She’ll hate you.”

“It doesn’t matter; she’ll be alive.”

And he headed off into the twilight.



He was taken straight to Lucifer, who eyed his burden with interest.

“A present?” he murmured. “How sweet, but she hardly seems lively.”

Ash ignored the comment. There had been no sign of life from Faith during the journey here. Tara’s words kept repeating in his mind. Not the hate bit—he could live with that. But the fact that she wouldn’t want this. He was aware she had risked her life many times in the course of her duty. Now, he would save her life at the cost of so many others.

Because he knew once he set this in motion, many would die in the battles that followed.

And he would be indebted to finding Roz and handing her over. A virtual slave, compelled to do his utmost to complete his task, until Roz was dead. There could be no shirking.

He pushed the thought aside as he strode past Luc and into the room where he’d met Raphael earlier. The angel rose to his feet and turned to watch him, brows drawn together when he saw Ash was not alone.

“What…?”

Ash stooped down and laid Faith on the rug in front of the fire. The flames cast a flickering glow over the pale skin of her face, giving her the illusion of life.

“Can you save her?” he asked.

“Why would you want that? She’s a human. What possible interest is she to you?”

“Can you fucking save her?” he snarled. “Yes or no.”

Raphael strolled over. He stared down at Faith, his eyes narrowing. Did he recognize her from MI13?

“You want this life instead of the one we offered you?”

“Can you do it?”

Raphael pursed his lips. “Easier, in fact. Her soul has not yet left her body.”

There were always choices. Sometimes it might not seem that way. Ash had choices. He could accept their offer. Betray his friends, because they were friends. Betray his daughter. Give Faith her life back at a price she would never be willing to pay.

In that moment, something broke inside him.

He could never have her. But maybe he could save her.

The gift of life and death had always rested in the hands of the angels.

He would give Raphael one last chance. “I don’t suppose you would save her out of the goodness of your heart?”

Yeah, right, appealing to an angel’s better nature. That one always worked.

Shock flashed across Raphael’s face. Then shutters came down over his eyes. “No.”

Choices…

If he did this, he was as good as dead, maybe worse than dead. Raphael would demand his revenge, probably an eternity of revenge and Ash would be banished to eternal torment in purgatory. There was no way he could hide; he bore Lucifer’s sigil, and was Lucifer’s to control until the debt was paid—which would be never if Ash went through with this. Luc was a friend, but he’d have no choice but to hand him over—he’d presumably offered Raphael safe passage in his home.

What the hell?

He’d never liked the arrogant bastard anyway.

“You broke the Accords,” he murmured. “You worked with humans expressly against the Order.”

Again, shock flashed across the angel’s face. “So? We told them nothing they hadn’t already guessed, just pushed them in the right direction.”

Ash bent down as though to examine Faith and slid the knife from inside his boot as he straightened. The firelight glinted off the deadly blade.

Whirling, he kicked out, taking Raphael by surprise, and the angel crashed to the floor.

He was up in an instant a fiery sword in his hand. Ash kicked out again heard the snap of bone and the sword dropped from Raphael’s limp fingers. He stepped in closer, punched him on the nose, crunching the cartilage, and the scent of blood filled the air. He hit out again, grabbed Raphael’s shoulder, found the pressure point, and squeezed.

Raphael went limp in his arms. Ash stood for a moment breathing heavily. He’d done it.