Gates of Paradise (a Blue Bloods Novel)

So this was the choice, Schuyler saw. This was her destiny. This was what her mother had prepared her for.

Schuyler struggled against it. This was different. It was not the same. She had Michael’s power and his sword. The wolves at her command. The Venators armed with the power of the Holy Spirit. She could save her love. She could save Jack, she knew she could, just as her father had saved Gabrielle. It was different this time. She would withdraw the sword. She could not sacrifice Jack. Not after everything they had been through; not after everything they had fought for. They had fought so hard to be together and she could still have both, victory and her love. She could still win, she knew it. There would be another chance. The battle was not over. She would not kill Lucifer right then. She could not sacrifice her love. Never. She could never lose Jack. She loved him too much. She would let the devil go.

My father’s failure.

My failure.

“Schuyler!” It was Oliver. Her friend. He was covered in ashes and blood, and he, too, was holding a sword. What was he doing in the middle of this battle? Oliver was going to get killed. He was the only human. And seeing him made her remember her mother’s words: Remember that when you arrive at the crossroads. When time stands still. When the path is open to you. Remember who your father was.…

Schuyler had two fathers.

Her human father.

Stephen Bendix Chase. Who had none of Michael’s glory; who was a simple human man. Whose only strength was in his ability to do the right thing. A good man. One who’d told Gabrielle to do her duty and return to Michael. Because love was not the answer to every question. Because real love meant sacrifice.

Sometimes love means letting go.

Schuyler knew what she had to do now. What she had been preparing for all her life. Every moment with Jack had always come down to this. Always. There was no escape. No happy ending for the two of them.

It was time to say good-bye.

I love you.

Always, Jack sent. Always and forever. He had always been true, and she was glad that she’d never doubted him, not for a moment. Their time was up. No time for even one last look, one last kiss, one last…

In the glom, she felt his spirit reach out to her. He was so very beautiful, an angel of the Light. They were together; he was with her even as the angel Danel brought down his sword and plunged it into Abbadon’s dark heart.

Schuyler cried in anguish, but there was nothing she could do.

“JACK!” she sobbed. “JACK!”

But she had made her choice.

Jack crumpled to the ground, but he was dead before he hit the stone.

Abbadon was no more.

For the first time, Schuyler saw the fear in the eyes of the Dark Prince.

Lucifer gazed at her in wonder. “You loved him,” he rasped. “And you let him die.”

Schuyler looked at him pitilessly, and with a mighty thrust, she plunged Michael’s sword into the heart of the demon.

There was a great explosion, as the very universe trembled under the force of his death. The demons screeched, the Dark Angels screamed. Their grief was unbearable, and even Heaven itself trembled under the destruction of its greatest son. It was as if the very substance of time had been rent in two, and for a moment, everything was still and silent as the passages healed and fused into one.

Schuyler collapsed under the weight of her sword and her grief.

The Silver Bloods cowered at the death of their prince, their king. But the vampires and wolves took heart from the victory. They fought with renewed vigor, as the madness of triumph brought them strength and ferocity.

Lucifer was dead.

The Dark Prince had been vanquished.

The Light of the Morningstar extinguished.

The wolves howled their triumph.

The battle was over.





SIXTY


Azrael


he saw Abbadon at the crossroads and tried to call to him, but he was already gone. She floated for a moment, above the battle, and then realized she could return now that his death had healed her wound. The bond between them, that had ever yoked them to each other, had been broken. Finally broken.

Abbadon was dead.

She was free.

Azrael opened her eyes.

Saw that Araquiel had tears in his, and she wiped them away.

His face was joyous and filled with sunshine, but for a moment it dimmed. “Abbadon is no more. I am sorry. I know you loved him,” he said, his voice hoarse and broken.

She nodded. “I will miss him till the end of my days. But he was right to do what he did.”

She realized that Abbadon had been playing a game. He knew Lucifer had discovered their deception and so he had crafted one of his own. Had pretended to be Abbadon of the Dark, when always he had been working for the Light.