I grit my teeth. I know who’s she’s waiting for: Armageddon. I glance through the opened door to our living room’s wall clock. 5 AM. The King of Hell was due at midnight.
Mom watches the empty yard for a time, the muscles along her jawline taut. Insects chirp in the darkness. A soft breeze rustles the browning leaves on our front-lawn trees. After a few minutes, Mom lets out a long sigh, the edges of her mouth softening.
My body relaxes as well. It’s almost morning. Maybe Armageddon isn’t coming after all.
Cracking her neck from side to side, Mom turns back to the house. She takes a step toward the door and freezes, every muscle in her body turning rigid.
I gasp, knowing that particular movement all too well. Mom was hit with greater demon aura, and that means one thing. Armageddon is here.
The King of Hell steps out of the line of trees. “Good morning, Camilla. I’ve come for Xavier.” I fight the urge to jump into the dreamscape and kick the crap out of him, or at least try to. Get off my lawn, asshole.
Mom spins about slowly, her face still as stone. She meets Armageddon’s gaze head-on. “You can’t have him.”
The King of Hell strolls up the walk to our house, pausing at the foot of the steps. His wide mouth twists with a sneer as he eyes her from head to toe. He says one word in a rumbling voice: “Xavier.”
The archangel steps out the front door and stands beside Mom.
She grips his hand. “Don’t do it, Xavier. Just get out of here.” The archangel shoots her a sad smile. After that, he slowly walks to Armageddon’s side.
My body stiffens with shock and rage. This can’t be happening.
The King of Hell sets his three-knuckled hand on Xavier’s shoulder. “Let’s see those wings you hid from everyone for so long.”
Xavier stands stoic and still.
Armageddon’s long red tongue flickers over his smooth black lips. “Perhaps if you were in a little more pain, it would break up your concentration.” He grips Xavier’s arm and snaps it with a loud CRACK. The archangel’s face writhes with pain; his golden wings appear.
My anger hits the breaking point. Verus and her dreamscapes can kiss my ass; I’m not standing by. My tail arcs over my shoulder; my body snaps into battle stance. I race toward dreamscape, the warm sand sliding beneath my bare feet, my gaze locked on Armageddon. You are so going down, buddy.
I get within a few feet of the King of Hell when my body slams into what feels like a brick wall. It’s some kind of force field, keeping the past away from the present. My back teeth lock. All I’ve accomplished is to give myself a better view of Armageddon’s gloating smile and Xavier’s overwhelming agony.
“Ah, I remember those wings.” Armageddon chuckles. “You showed them when you rallied the angels and drove my army from Heaven.” The King of Hell rounds on Mom. “Does it pain you to watch me hurt him?”
Mom glares at Armageddon, her arms folded over her chest.
I press my palms against the invisible wall. Every cell in my body wants to break through and stand beside her. Stay strong, Mom.
The King of Hell twists Xavier’s broken arm. The archangel sucks in a breath, gritting his teeth. Mom’s eyes slowly bead with tears. Mine do, too.
“It does pain you.” Armageddon’s mouth bends into an impossibly-large smile. “Good. Because I’ll be doing this for all eternity. Whenever you think of the Senate or your murdered family or sewing one of those silly robes, I want you think of Xavier and how I’m torturing him at that exact moment. Just for you.”
I slam my fists into the force field; it doesn’t budge. I need to kill Armageddon, save Xavier, and help my mom. Let me in!
Mom’s shoulders slump, worry lines appear around eyes. I notice a few gray hairs I hadn’t seen before.
I freeze in place, unable to do anything but watch her sorrow beyond the invisible barrier. Mom steps back, leaning against the outer wall of the house for support. She sets her hand on her rib cage and I can almost hear her heart crack with grief. This is when the weepy, over-worrying version of my mother came to be. I’m so sorry, Mom. I never dreamed this is what happened. I understand now.
Armageddon waves his long and bony hand. “Goodbye, seamstress.” He and Xavier disappear. For a moment, Mom stands still on the front stoop, and then she crumples onto the concrete landing, her shoulders heaving with sobs.
Mom’s body turns back into sand before dissolving into the desert floor. The rest of the scene does the same. The dreamscape ends. Somehow, I know this is the last one.
For what feels like eons, I stare at the Gray Sea, watching the rolling dunes of charcoal-colored sand touch a blue and gray sky. The wind howls through me; sulphur chokes my lungs. I could care less.
One thought keeps churning through my mind: at this moment, somewhere in Hell, Xavier’s being tortured. All because he saved my mother’s life; my life too. Even though I’m deep asleep, I know my face streams with tears.
Chapter Twenty-One