Chain of Thorns (The Last Hours, #3)

Both Grace and Jesse looked offended; in fact, their expressions of annoyance were so similar that it reminded Thomas that whether or not they were blood related, they were siblings nonetheless.

“What Alastair means,” Thomas said quickly, “is it’s not safe, and you’ve both been up all night. And we have no idea what we’ll be facing out there.”

“And?” said Jesse, his tone rather sharp. “What do you expect us to do? We’ve sent a hundred fire-messages; we can’t just huddle here in the Institute, waiting to see if you ever come back.”

“I see I am not the only one who has abandoned optimism,” noted Alastair.

“He’s just being realistic,” said Grace, reaching down below the table where she’d been working and pulling out a canvas sack.

“What do you have there?” said Alastair.

“Explosives,” she said. “From Christopher’s lab. We are ready.”

“The time for hiding and protecting ourselves and saving our energy is over,” Jesse said. “I can feel it. Can’t you?”

Thomas could not deny that it was true. Cordelia and Lucie had gone; Anna and Ariadne were trekking through the Silent City, hoping to meet the Clave at the entrance to the Iron Tombs. They were nearly out of food. And the Watchers were on the march.

“Besides,” Grace said. “We’re the only ones who can send fire-messages. What if we need to reach Anna and Ari, or the Clave, and tell them what the Watchers are doing? Where they’ve gathered? You can’t say that wouldn’t be helpful.”

And indeed, Thomas couldn’t.

“One way or another, it’s going to end today,” Jesse said, going to fetch the Blackthorn sword from where it leaned against the wall. “All of it. Better that we’re together for whatever comes.”

Thomas and Alastair exchanged a look.

“And if you don’t let us come with you,” added Jesse, “you’ll have to lock us up in the Institute. We won’t stay here otherwise.”

Grace nodded in agreement.

Thomas shook his head. “You’re Nephilim. We’re not locking you up. If you really want to come—”

“We can die together,” Alastair said. “Now, get your gear on. I don’t think we have much more time.”



* * *



“Matthew,” Cordelia breathed.

Matthew took a step back. He was staring at Cordelia as if she were an apparition, a ghost that had appeared out of nowhere. “James,” he said raggedly, “James was right—you came—”

Lucie passed through the doorway into the courtyard. The red-orange sun beat down on her, and on Cordelia, who had already looked, already seen that the garden was empty of anyone but Matthew. And though Cordelia was desperately glad to see Matthew, the look on his face made her feel as if a fist were crushing her heart.

“He’s gone,” she said. “Isn’t he? James is gone.”

“He’s gone?” Lucie whispered. “You don’t mean—”

“He’s alive.” Matthew’s face crumpled. “But possessed. I’m sorry—I couldn’t stop it happening—”

“Math,” Lucie said softly, and then she and Cordelia were running across the courtyard. They threw their arms around him, embraced him tightly, and after a moment he put his arms around them awkwardly and hugged them both back. “I am so sorry,” he said, over and over. “So sorry—”

Cordelia drew back first. Lucie, she could see, had tears streaking her face, but Cordelia had none to shed; what she felt was too terrible for her to cry. “Don’t apologize,” she said fiercely. “You didn’t let this happen; Belial is a Prince of Hell. He does what he wants. Just—where did he take James? Where have they gone?”

“London,” Matthew said. “He’s obsessed with it. A place on Earth where he rules.” His voice was bitter. “Now that he has so much power over the city—he as much as swore he would murder every living person in London until James broke down and let him do what he wanted.”

“Oh, poor James,” Lucie said miserably. “To have such an awful choice—”

“But he would have thought of it already,” Cordelia said. Think like James, she told herself. She had come to know him so well over the past half year, come to know the intricate, winding way he considered and schemed. The kind of plans he made; what he was willing to risk, and what he was not. “That Belial would make a threat he could not withstand. It could not have surprised him.”

“It didn’t,” Matthew said. “Last night, James told me he had a plan. Letting Belial possess him was part of it.”

“A plan?” Lucie said, urgency in her voice. “What kind of plan?”

“I’ll tell you. But we must start back to London. I don’t think we have much time to lose.” There was dust in Matthew’s bright hair, and smears of dirt on his face. But he looked more alert, more resolute and clear-eyed, than Cordelia had ever seen him.

Lucie and Cordelia exchanged a quick look. “The Portal,” said Lucie. “Matthew, are you well enough—?”

“To fight?” Matthew nodded. “As long as someone has a weapon I can use.” He put his hand to his belt. “James gave me his pistol last night, to hold for him. I think he didn’t want Belial to be able to make use of it in our world. But of course, it won’t work for me.”

“Here.” Lucie drew a seraph blade from her weapons belt and handed it to him. Matthew took it with a look of grim conviction.

“All right,” Cordelia said, turning back toward the archway that led into the fortress. “Matthew—tell us everything that happened.”

Matthew did. As they headed up the stairs, he spoke of his and James’s imprisonment, sparing nothing, not his own sickness, nor his stunned surprise when a door had opened in the blank wall of the courtyard and Lucie and Cordelia had appeared from nowhere. He told them of the threats Belial had made before that, and James’s decision, and of the moment Belial had possessed James.

“I’ve never seen anything more horrible,” he said as they emerged into the room with the Portal inside it. “Belial walked toward him, grinning this terrible grin, and James stood his ground, but Belial just passed into him. Like a ghost walking through a wall. He vanished into James, and James’s eyes turned a kind of dead silver color. And when he looked at me again, it was James’s face, but with Belial’s expression. Contempt and loathing and—inhumanity.” He shuddered. “I can’t explain it better than that.”

Cordelia thought he’d explained it quite well enough. The thought of a James who was not James anymore made her feel sick. “There has to be more,” she said. “For James to let this happen the way he did—”

“He’d already accepted that Belial would possess him,” Matthew said. “He was concerned with what would happen after. He said that we needed to get Cordelia as near to Belial as possible—”

“So I can deal him his third wound?” Cordelia demanded. “But Belial is part of James now. I cannot mortally wound him without killing James, too.”

“Besides,” said Lucie, “Belial knows you’re a threat. He won’t let you anywhere near him. And now that he’s possessed James—he’ll be so powerful—”

“He is powerful,” said Matthew. “He is also in pain. Those two wounds Cordelia dealt him already still cause him agony. But you can heal them, with Cortana—”

“Heal Belial?” Cordelia flinched. “I would never.”

“James believes the idea will tempt Belial,” said Matthew. “He is not used to pain. Demons normally don’t feel it. If you tell him you’re willing to make a deal—”

“A deal?” Cordelia’s voice rose incredulously. “What kind of deal?”

Matthew shook his head. “I’m not sure it matters. James only said you had to get close, and that you would know the right moment to act.”

“The right moment to act?” Cordelia echoed faintly.

Matthew nodded. Cordelia felt a quiet panic; she’d no idea what James intended. She’d told herself to think like him, but she felt as if she were missing the integral pieces of a puzzle, the key bits that would allow it to be solved.

Yet she couldn’t bear to show her doubt in front of Lucie and Matthew, both of whom were looking at her with a desperate hope. She only nodded, as if what Matthew had said made sense to her. “How did he know?” she said instead. “That you’d see us again, or be able to tell us anything?”

“He never gave up,” said Matthew. “He said none of you would take Belial’s offer, or leave London—”

“He was right about that,” said Lucie. “Cordelia and I came here, but we never went through the York Gate to Alicante. We stayed in the Institute with the others. Thomas, Anna…”

“James guessed all that.” Matthew was looking at the Portal, at its stormy view of London. “He said you’d come for us. Both of you. He believed in you.”

“Then we must believe in him,” said Lucie. “We can’t delay any longer. We have to get to London.”