The Van Alen Legacy

“Not for them and not for us,” replied Jack, looking grim. The Silver Bloods had been unable to open the gate, and Charles had been unable to trap the Silver Bloods, and now he was most likely trapped in the intersection himself.

They reached the gate. It was just as Kingsley described: six feet tall, welded deep into the crust of the earth. Mimi knew this was just its physical manifestation in the glom, something only they could see. The true barrier was Michael’s spirit and protection that kept the Silver Bloods from crossing. But where was Kingsley? Mimi couldn’t see him—there was only Lucifer standing behind the iron bars. That stupid Van Alen girl was chained next to him.

When he saw them arrive, their former commandant smiled. “Azrael, Abbadon. How good of you to join us.”

Mimi had to fight the urge to kneel.

This was the Morningstar before her. Their one true prince. How magnificent he looked, how lovely. Mimi remembered how she had followed his every command, how together the three of them had conquered Heaven and Earth for the Almighty.

How glorious their triumphs had been! How beautiful they all were, resplendent and soaring to the sun. How could anyone fault them for basking in their own beauty and glory? How could anyone fault them for thinking the glory was their own?

But no—it was his fault they were stuck here; his fault they were cursed to live out their lives on Earth. Paradise was just a dim memory, almost a myth—even to them—shut out from warmth and love of the Almighty forever. If only . . .

They had tried. . . . They had switched sides at the last moment, choosing that clodhorse Michael over their general. But it had been too late. . . . It had been too late, even then, back in the early dawn of the world, when she was still young. . . .

“Release her!” Jack cried. “Now, serpent.”

Mimi looked at her brother, at her twin. She had never seen him so angry, so hell-bent on destruction. They had fought side by side in Lucifer’s army once, and had fought against him ever since.

Jack leaped over the gate, his sword aflame. To vanquish his foe and rescue his love.

Without hesitation, Mimi followed him into battle.





SIXTY-THREE

Schuyler


When Schuyler saw the Force twins, she didn’t recognize them at first. They were shining as brightly as Lucifer, and they looked like him too. For a moment it was as if three celestial angels stood before her, gorgeous, unknowable, and remote as gods. Schuyler wasn’t sure if they were about to fight Lucifer or bow to him. Mimi certainly looked rapt. Then Jack had crashed over the gate, to the other side, and she knew it would be a fight to the death.

In the blink of an eye, Lucifer took the form of a silver dragon, breathing crimson fire. And Jack had transformed as well, taking the form of Abbadon, raising his crude hammer.

The silver dragon and the dark lumbering beast flew toward each other, locked in a furious battle of claw against claw, fire against fire, and they rolled and battered and spit venom and hate. The dragon was thrown against the gate, but in a moment had the beast between its claws. But the beast fought its way out of the dragon’s hold, and struck a blow with its weapon against the dragon’s hide.

Then they were human again: white prince against dark knight, their swords showering the dark with sparks, and Jack matched Lucifer blow for blow, until with a sudden frenzied rush, he cornered Lucifer against the gate.

“Let her go!” Jack ordered, his voice a murderous growl.

“Why? Playmate of yours? Looks a lot like her mother, doesn’t she? You always did have that silly infatuation with Allegra.” Lucifer smiled. “Abbadon, will you ever learn? The Daughters of the White are not for the likes of you.”

“Do it!”

“No.” As he spoke, Lucifer disappeared into a fine silver mist.

Before Jack could move, Leviathan reappeared, the hooded, silent demon with his glowing black spear. The same spear that had killed Lawrence in Corcovado. The same spear that he sank, swiftly and silently, into Jack’s back.

Schuyler screamed as she watched Jack fall, choking, to the ground. Then Lucifer stood before her once again, and this time his fangs glittered in the dark, like knives. He was coming for her. He would take her into his own consciousness, to live a million lifetimes trapped in the darkness that was his corroded soul.

Then suddenly, something came between them—something that screamed like a banshee—that came with a mighty rustling of wings—and the devil released his hold.

Schuyler was free.





SIXTY-FOUR

Mimi