“That’s right. See you’re not so stupid after all. And if you accept it from me, you can destroy it. It will die with you.” Falon’s silver gaze was intent upon me.
I swallowed hard, savoring the whiskey burn. Staring into the glass, I was suddenly certain that this was the last night I would ever drink it.
“And what happens to Lilah’s throne then?” I dared to ask.
“It remains in limbo, indefinitely. At least until the bitch escapes again and blows it wide open. Of course this only works if you die before Shya takes the orb from you. He’ll try. Once he knows you possess it, he’ll stop at nothing to keep you alive until he can take it from you. And then he’ll kill you and use it to claim all that nasty power for himself.”
“Can’t he just kill me anyway?”
“He needs the ritual, the words. First the scroll has to be manifested as physical once again, an easy enough task for a demon of his caliber. He’ll tear it out of you and make you suffer every second until he sacrifices you.”
“And I don’t need to know the words to destroy it?” This was giving me a headache. It all sounded very complicated. Or perhaps I was overcomplicating it.
“You just have to die and take it with you.” Falon was so flippant, like it was just that easy.
“How do you know it will work?”
“I don’t. There’s only one way to find out.”
I stared at him, seeking a sign that he was misleading me. It just didn’t make sense. What could Falon possibly have to gain from lying about having the damn thing?
“Why are you doing this? Aren’t you on Team Shya?”
“I’m on Team Falon, nothing more, nothing less. Now are you going to accept this thing or not?”
“And if I don’t?” I challenged, feeling backed into a corner. He wasn’t leaving me much choice with that explanation.
“Then I give it to Shya and let him use you as a sacrifice and take my place at his right hand. You die either way. Don’t let your foolish pride make this choice. I’m offering you the chance to prevent some seriously bad shit. Like hell on earth kind of shit.”
Falon crossed his arms and regarded me with open hostility. His motives were questionable, but I didn’t have the ability to detect a lie on an angel.
“Why does that matter to you? Seems like something you’d like.” Arys spoke up for the first time. His expression was stone cold and hard to read.
“You have no idea what I like.” Falon smirked, enjoying the mind fuck he was pulling on us. “I enjoy my share of chaos, but I don’t share Shya’s big apocalyptic dreams.”
I sighed and gripped the headstone with one hand so I wouldn’t drunkenly fall over the other side of it. “I really hate you right now.”
“The feeling is mutual. Now, can we do this already?”
“Of all of the times for you to do this, you had to do it on the night of my best friend’s wedding,” I accused, detecting a slight slur to my words.
Falon regarded me with judgmental haughtiness. “I had to wait for the right time. It’s not about you, really, so get over yourself. Shya has reached a point of power-crazed madness that made waiting any longer too risky. It’s only a matter of time until he figures out that I have what he’s looking for.”
“How are we supposed to be able to trust you? This could all be a manipulation ordered by Shya, and we would never know,” Arys said. He seemed much calmer than I felt, but he was shut down, making it difficult to know for sure.
“It could be.” Falon shrugged and did his best to look bored with us.
“What about Gabriel?” I asked, trying to cover all bases. “How do you know he hasn’t somehow seen this?”
“You really think I’d be stupid enough to let that kid touch me? Not a snowball’s chance in hell. Which is what you’ll have if Shya gets this damn scroll.”
Falon was insulted by my question, but it was valid. “He’s touched me, Falon. He saw things that he didn’t even want to repeat. There’s no way of knowing what he’s seen or if he’s told Shya.”
“Fuck Gabriel,” Falon hissed with enough vehemence to indicate how he really felt about Shya’s prodigy. “That little shit is going to be a problem. Can’t you control him somehow? Isn’t that a vampire thing?”
Arys paced a few steps away and paused to read a headstone. He was thinking hard. I knew that without being inside his head.
“It is, depending,” Arys said slowly. “He’s of a strong bloodline with power of his own. That makes it unlikely that he can easily be manipulated. One like him never should have been made.”
This wasn’t the right time to shout an, “I told you so,” so I bit my lip and kept my mouth shut. An owl hooted overhead, and I looked up to find wide, round eyes blinking at us from a nearby tree. It was so easy to forget that we were never really alone. The chances of something or someone lurking were always great.
“Better bring your witch friend then,” Falon suggested. “You might need her to work some counter spells to block whatever he throws at you. Gabriel is dangerous, which is why Shya likes him so much.”
September Moon (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #8)
Trina M. Lee's books
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