If Sammael defeated me, his sword would rise above my angel maker and all of those rights would be lost. The world would be forever changed.
He grabbed my hair, pulling me to my knees and holding me out to the angels as a sacrifice. I remembered the way Lincoln had taught me to slow down and control my movements – to be economical and see the fight coming. I closed my eyes. I would only get one move in before my body gave out on me. My sword returned to its slightly shorter katana blade and I dropped it to the ground between my knees.
‘She will be your warrior no more!’ Sammael yelled.
I breathed deeply.
In.
Out.
Focused.
He yanked my braid hard, baring my neck and his body pulled away as he drew his sword wide for the final, sweeping blow. My eyes closed, I felt his strike race towards my neck. At the final moment I dropped my head, as if in prayer, and the sword sliced through my braid, releasing me. I spun on one knee, lifting my katana as I lunged forward.
The blade pierced Sammael’s lung, perilously close to his heart. Caught off-guard, he dropped his sword and froze.
Keeping one hand wrapped around the hilt of my katana still lodged in his chest – not a killing blow, yet – I quickly filled my other hand and rose, my stance deceptively steady.
Unnatural silence surrounded us as Sammael’s wide eyes watched my blade.
‘That is not a Grigori blade,’ he said, but his eyes did not match the confidence of his tone.
‘That’s true,’ I conceded, as I sharply twisted the blade. It might not have been a Grigori dagger but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch.
‘And it does not hold your blood,’ he growled, gaining sureness even as I continued to hold him still.
I managed to raise a blood-filled smile. ‘That’s true, too,’ I admitted.
Sammael’s lips twitched.
His eyes narrowed.
He planned his next move.
He was already too late.
The arm resting loosely at my side drew back and then swiftly forward, jamming Sammael’s own sword – the one that had landed at my knees – into his stomach.
‘You dropped something,’ I said. And he knew instantly that it was over. For he had ensured that his sword had well and truly been covered in my blood.
Yeah, consequence is a bitch.
And because of everything that was at stake, and just … because, I didn’t wait for him to fall, or disappear, or even be taken away by the angels. Instead, I pulled both blades back and wide and in one final show of speed and strength, I scissored them straight through his neck.
Sammael and I fell to the ground together.
But he would never rise again.
CHaPteR tHIRty-fIVe
‘There is a certain greatness in the angels; and such power that if the angels exert it to the full, it cannot be withstood.’
Saint Augustine
Sammael was gone.
Given the extent of my injuries I should have been close behind. And yet, my lungs continued to fill and my heart continued to beat.
Lincoln skidded to the ground beside me, pulling me into his lap.
‘Vi, I … I … I …’ he stuttered, his trembling hands sweeping over my face frantically. ‘There’s so much blood, Vi,’ he said, his voice thick.
‘It’s okay,’ I said, my breathing evening out. ‘I know.’
Our powers did not work the same way in this place. He could not heal me.
‘We need to get you back,’ he said, looking up at the angels. ‘We need to get her back!’
‘Linc,’ I said softly, causing his wild eyes to come back to mine. ‘Breathe,’ I said, lifting my arm up. ‘Good.’ I smiled weakly. ‘Now, help me up.’
He shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t move.’
‘It’s okay. Trust me,’ I said.
With a furrowed brow he took my waiting arm and helped me slowly to my feet so that I could face my maker.
‘Are you strong enough to cross the realms?’ Lincoln asked.
Before this moment, I would have answered no. But something had changed in me. An acceptance of everything that I am and can be. I nodded, my bloodied hand cupping his face. ‘This first,’ I said, leaning into him and pressing my lips to his.
His kiss was gentle and powerful all at once and even as his lips trembled with his fears, his touch was sure and claimed me in every way. He pulled back, his forehead resting against mine. ‘How are you standing?’
I smiled. ‘I’m not – you’re standing for both of us.’
When he stared back at me in utter confusion, I turned to the angels, looking until I found him. He was mounted on a white horse in the front line, Nox beside him. ‘Tell him, Uri,’ I said, looking at my guides.
Uri grinned – a rare display of emotion. ‘It is beyond his comprehension.’