“I will not.” For a moment, he had considered it. For a moment, he would have taken the heartbreak, if that was what Layla really wanted him to do. He’d have gone back and done his duty. Now he only wanted his scythe to strike down the angels. His bare hands would have to do.
“Shadowman, please. Listen to reason,” Custo said. “It’s the way things are meant to be.”
Ballard stirred from his collapse on the ground. Put a hand to the cave floor.
Through the air, a gleam of steel flew. A dagger, a weapon of the angels. Shadowman stuck out his chest to accept the impact. No blade could kill him, and in the belly of the earth where darkness reigned, it would not even slow him. The point slid into his heart with a thunk as the hilt met muscle. He grinned against the pain, baring his teeth at the host like an animal. He had only to move his Shadow forward, and the dagger would fall to the ground. And so it did.
“No bloodshed!” Custo implored him. “If you don’t want to be Death, don’t kill today. Layla wouldn’t want it. You know that.”
“Your kind struck her first.” And now Shadowman could only see death around him. Could only see the wasted bodies littering the cave. A war with Heaven. Endless fighting until the world was scorched beyond reckoning.
kat-a-kat-a-kat-a-kat: Open me, and no one will strike Layla again.
Ballard pushed himself up. His nose was crushed, one eye turned slightly inward, blood streaming down his chin, but his body would repair itself rapidly, as angels were wont to do. Soon he would be whole again. However, like a devil, angels could be killed, and Death could not. Why did they fight when they had no hope of prevailing?
“The time for discussion is past,” Shadowman said.
“What if we bury it?” Custo said. “What if I guard it until Layla is old and ready to go?”
The boy was grasping at straws.
Ballard wiped the blood from his mouth and stood. “The risk is too great, the temptation overwhelming. The gate must be destroyed now. We do not compromise with evil or with Shadow.”
“Let them at least prepare,” Custo begged. “Let her say good-bye.”
“The decision is made,” Ballard said.
“The fuck it is!” Custo shouted back.
Shadowman bid dark magic to flow through his veins. No one would so much as lay a finger on the gate. “You’re right,” he said to Ballard. “The decision has been made. Custo, it is time for you to choose a side. Order or madness?”
Custo let his extended arms drop. His chest rose and fell with his breath. Conviction overrode the anguish that ripped his Shadow and Ordered halves apart. “Well, when you put it like that . . .”
And he went to stand next to Death.
“You’re a fool.” Ballard spit blood onto the ground.
“This won’t end well, will it?” Custo murmured.
“No,” Shadowman answered. “It will not.”
“Look at me, Layla.”
She focused on Adam, who crouched in front of her.
“You feel okay? Like the first time this happened?”
Her head hurt like crazy, but yeah, she’d live.
He held up a finger in front of her eyes, tracking to the left and right. “Patel’s been evacuated, or I’d have him give you a once-over.”
“I’m okay, and I think we can safely say the gate still stands, too.” If she was relatively unscathed, the gate must be. Shadowman had stopped them. She just hoped Custo could keep the whole thing civilized. But remembering the look in Shadowman’s face, the darkening of his skin and eyes, she really didn’t think civilized was possible. Death was pissed.
“Was anyone else hurt in the attack?” Layla asked.
“When the alarm went off, most were evacuated. Some staff remain, those who were trapped in their rooms, and the soldiers are here. We’re still well protected, just not organized.”
Layla glanced toward Talia, who was leaning in the bedroom doorway, the black-eyed baby in her arms. “Will the kids be safe?”
“I’m a banshee,” Talia said. “If we’re attacked by wraiths, my scream will bring my father. Add Adam’s firepower and they are as safe as we can make them.”
“Banshee,” Layla repeated. She hadn’t meant it to be out loud. So that was the deal with Talia’s voice.
“Yes.” Talia returned her gaze, waiting for a reaction.
“I heard you scream,” Layla said, recalling that piercing terror. “Down in the holding facility.”
Adam craned his neck to look at his wife. “She did hear you, even though I couldn’t. She sent me running.”
Layla gave a wry smile. “One of the kids has quite the scream, too. I could hear him through Kathleen’s painting. He makes the leaves rustle like there’s a wind blowing through the trees. Totally confused me, but I get it now. The veil is thin for me.” She felt the smile twist on her face. “Getting thinner by the hour.”
“You don’t really want Khan to go back, do you?” Talia put the baby over her shoulder and patted his back. The other one let out an angry squall, and Adam went to fetch him.