“No, thanks,” she said. “I got a glimpse of Hell yesterday. It’s not for me.”
Custo emerged from the gathered angels. Approached. “Going or staying, kiss him now. We’d better get started before someone cracks.” He flared his nostrils with a hard breath. “I’m halfway there myself.”
Custo walked to the cold, dead forge off to one side. On the anvil lay a hammer and another of the black metal flowers. Probably the one she’d found in the warehouse. Shadowman’s hope that she’d endure.
kat-a-kat-a-kat: Will you witness his destruction? Will you watch his body break and bleed for love of you?
No. She didn’t think she could. But she still wasn’t leaving.
Shadowman lowered his head to her ear. His breath caressed her skin. That one spot warmed the rest of her. “Layla, it is done. I beg you to go now. I want you to remember last night, not this.”
Custo lifted the hammer. The violence of his motion sent the black flower to the cave floor.
Layla shook her head. She couldn’t leave him. Couldn’t endure this either. That was Kathleen’s thing, endurance. Not hers. She’d been broken from the beginning. All her life. Set apart. Yes, alone. And why? So she could betray the only one who’d ever loved her.
And he wanted her to remember last night?
kat-a-kat-a-kat: I’ve got all your memories right here.
“Help me,” Shadowman said.
Took a second for her to realize he wasn’t talking to her. Then she was surrounded by angels, ready to forcibly restrain her.
“I’ll make it quick,” Custo promised, his voice a rasp of soul-deep reluctance.
But Layla looked at the gate. All her memories? The temptation grew silky, twining around her soul. What she wouldn’t give for Kathleen’s memories. . . .
“The gate has her,” someone said.
Years of happy childhood. Family. Her sister. How she and her Shadowman had first fallen in love. The birth of Talia, which now, a lifetime away, still made her heart thump hard with a wrench of timeless connection.
Shadowman drew her up for one last kiss. Even as his mouth pressed to hers, hard, dark, full of passion, the gate spoke in her mind. kat-a-kat-a-kat: What do you think he made me of ? Every strike has a piece of you.
And those flowers, so she’d endure. Hold out, against all odds.
“Get her out of here!” Shadowman roared.
Then he frowned in confusion when the angels drew back, as if a thought had been shared among them. They looked at her. At each other. At the gate.
Layla knew what that thought was.
Those memories sure would be nice. Better than most of what she had in her head. But Kathleen had given them up for another chance at the real thing. And Layla wasn’t about to let it go.
She met Shadowman’s tortured gaze. “The flowers, love.”
The flowers made the gate, the keeper of the memories, endure as well.
She had to be right because the gate’s rattle grew stronger, shaking dust and loose rocks from the cave’s dark ceiling and tumbling rocks down the narrow opening at its mouth. The gate knew she had the answer. The angels ducked as the debris rained down. One or two made a dash for the gate, giving in to temptation as the opportunity to open it presented itself in the chaos. These were knocked back by the blond-haired angel and Custo, whose veins had turned to lead.
Layla darted toward the gate herself. An arm went around her middle, whipped her back as a large boulder careened in a blue-black arc of Shadow magic and cracked to the cave floor. She took the hammer from Custo, unafraid of the chaos in the cavern. She was well protected. Always had been.
The tool made her arm buzz with a tingling-glowy feeling. This was not any old hammer.
kat-a-kat-a-kat: Open me! Open me! OPEN ME!
The cave rolled with a great earthquake as she stepped up to the gate. Eyed the first flower on it, drew her arm back with all her might, and struck.
The flower’s stem bent, and the petals pointed downward. She liked the flowers so much, better even than her gorgeous red roses. When this was over, she wanted to gather them into a black bouquet. His hope that she’d endure. Well, she was right here to prove it.
She struck again as the ground lurched, and the flower fell into the dirt. One, two, three more . . . no a fourth, right there.
The gate stood naked before her, rocking on its posts.
kat-a-kat-a-kat: He loved Kathleen more.
Layla held out the hammer to Shadowman. “You want to do the honors?” kat-a-kat-a-kat: Desired her more.
“It would be my pleasure.” His expression was savage, violent and ecstatic. kat-a-kat-a-kat: He’ll never—
And the gate was silenced with Shadowman’s first strike.
Chapter 20
Two months later
Khan held the thrashing wight at bay, mesmerizing it with an orb of faelight. The creature shivered in the air, as if to shed its flesh, but it could never die. At least, not without their help.