18
The sun was just cresting the red desert horizon when I traced into Grace’s bedroom.
In sleep, Grace looked human. So frail. Her papery white skin was mottled with liver spots and bright blue veins. Her breathing was ragged—sometimes she’d go so long without inhaling that I knew she wasn’t long for this world.
I clenched my fists, rooted with indecision. The Gray Man walked up beside me and no longer did he seem like a frightening entity. This flash was an extension of my priest. I grabbed one shadowy hand.
The Gray Man squeezed back and I felt Asher’s soul pulse through it, feeding me, giving me strength to quiet the compulsive demand of my demons to slaughter, kill, and torture.
Pestilence hissed, Lust slithered, and I drew on Asher’s strength.
“Wake up,” I snapped.
The sharp command had her eyes widening. Grabbing her chest, her face transformed into a mask of terror—mouth gaping and eyes widening as she took in a deep, shaky breath.
“Pandora?” Her hands trembled. But she quickly shook the sleep from her, scooting back until she was able to use the headboard to help her sit up. Soon the confusion turned to the sharp gaze of the woman I’d once loved like a mother. Eyes moving between me and the Gray Man, her keen brain fitted the pieces of the puzzle together. “Now you know.”
“Not really.” I dipped my brows, keeping my feet firmly locked in place. “I know you and Ash are working together, but not why. Or how long you’ve been playing me.”
Her silver hair hung like thin threads of cobwebs around her hunched shoulders.
“The night you gave me that ring, you said it was hell on a person. Your words. Remember?”
She didn’t bother denying it.
“I would have died down there if it hadn’t been for Ash. Why send me to Hell? What did you have to gain? What is going on, Grace? And this time I want the truth or I’ll make good on what my priest stopped me from doing a few nights ago.”
No surprise filtered through her gaze—the old bat had clearly been caught up on all the gory details.
“There is a prophecy about you. One the Order is desperate to contain.”
The tape recording Asher had left me the night I’d woken up from my coma had alluded to a prophecy. “What prophecy?”
“That you’re the key to releasing Wrath.”
My heart jerked at the memory of the inhumanly beautiful man tempting me to him. Calling me to heed, to obey. I’d come so close.
“But I was only in Hell because of that ring—if you hadn’t given it to me, I would never have gone there.”
“No, Dora.” Her eyes closed and she heaved a sigh. “You’ll not be in Hell when you call him forth. The ring was a test, to see if you were strong enough to resist.”
“I didn’t release him.” I widened my eyes.
“I know. As does the Order. I’d hoped it would be enough to dissuade them of this course, but I’ve learned that test meant nothing to them.”
A terrible suspicion took root. “Did you orchestrate that thing?”
The way she nibbled on her lip and looked quickly away told me everything I needed to know.
“Damn you!”
Face scrunching up, she tossed up her hands. “It was the only way I knew to prove to them that you could be trusted.”
God, she didn’t know. My heart was pounding so hard. If it hadn’t been for Asher throwing himself on me, I would very likely have gone to Wrath. I wonder if he’d told her that, if she knew that I’d been inches from unleashing that deadly sin. That truth was like bile on my tongue.
“And Kemen? That was you. I heard the recording.”
Inhaling deeply, she nodded. “Yes, lass, that was me.”
If the Gray Man hadn’t been hanging on to my hand, I’d have jumped her right then and there. Rage roared through me, woke both my demons up until they hissed and spit right alongside me. “Why!”
She held up her hands. “You may not believe me, but everything, and I mean everything I’m about to tell you is true, and I have the proof to back it up.”
If I said a word, if I even blinked right now, I’d eviscerate her. So I waited for her to continue.
“Kemen approached me about two nights before your group landed in South Dakota.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Ye don’t have to, but like I said, I can prove it. He was tired of living, told me so. Said he wanted out.”
“Shut up.” My eyes burned.
She shook her head. “I told him to go home and sleep it off. But he kept coming back.” She pointed at the small dresser she had shoved against the wall beside me. “In there you’ll find a voice recorder—it’s him, he told me to give it to ya when you’d finally learned da truth.”
Her accent was thick and her voice shook. She was clearly frazzled, but whether because it was true or a lie, I’d soon find out. “God help you if you’re lying.”
Turning on my heel, I yanked open the drawer and found the small black tape recorder.
“The cassette’s in there, just click Play.”
Giving her a final withering glare, I started it. The snapping crackle of static soon gave way to a voice I thought I’d never hear again.
Pandora...
I sobbed, the tears coming instantly and hard.
If you’re hearing this, then you didn’t kill Grace and that’s good. He chuckled with that sultry drawl of his I’d always been a sucker for, slightly smoky mixed with the sluggish exhaustion of a sloth demon. I know you probably hate me right now and I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you because you’d try to stop me.
I hiccupped and bit my knuckle.
For so long I’ve felt useless to the family, to Luc especially. I’ve never quite fit in and I think you know a thing about that yourself.
I shook my head, trying to deny it but knowing he was right.
I was going to end things someway, I had to. He sighed. I was never as strong as you, Dora. I’ve lived my life and I just couldn’t do it anymore. I need you to understand that because odds are really good that you’ll be the one to take my life.
A horrible keening exploded from my throat and I rocked back on my heels. Tears fell so hard I could barely see.
I’m sorry. Just know that I loved you, and that’s why it has to be you. This is the only way my death will mean something, if I can keep you safe. This is my final gift to you, Dora. Please don’t mourn me anymore.
That’s how it ended and I wanted to deny it, wanted to scream that she’d somehow forced him to do it, forced him to say these words or that someone had impersonated him. But that had been my sandman and the only thing I could do was hurl the instrument across the room. It crashed against the wall, shattering into pieces.
Needing a minute to gather myself, I raced to her bathroom and slammed the door shut, hands shaking as I covered my face and cried.
It took me a while to get the tears under control. Realizing I couldn’t stay in here forever, I walked to the sink splashed cold water on my face, and when I felt more in control of myself, I walked back to Grace’s room.
She’d not moved and she didn’t say anything about my obviously still-tear-stained face.
“Talk.”
Grace was smart enough not to ask me about what.
“The moment I realized that Kemen would not be dissuaded, I explained to him what was going on with you but told him he had to keep it all to himself. He couldn’t let you in on any of it. I told him everything, Dora. How the vampires were a trap, how I was working with a priest, how if anyone discovered what I was about, they’d have killed me and killed your only chance to survive this.”
“You expect me to believe you’re as powerful as all that? You’re a pawn in their game!”
“Nay.” She shook her head. “I’ve not gotten to this place in life without having contingency plans for any eventuality. Do you honestly believe that I was fool enough to think for a moment an organization as powerful as the Order might not one day go beyond their bounds? Power breeds corruption—it’s the one constant you can depend on.”
I closed my eyes, leaning against the wall. The Gray Man, who I’d even forgotten was still there, came and stood beside me. I wondered just how much Asher knew of what was going on? Could he see through the GM’s eyes? Hear what it heard?
“I’m a powerful ally, and I always have been. As is the priest. He and I arranged for everything to happen as it did in South Dakota, to never let the Order know we knew. It had to happen as it did to keep you safe. As long as they believed I was in on the double cross and that there was a priest actively tailing you to end it, they wouldn’t come at you with guns blazing. Kemen understood that—it’s why he allowed himself to become the decoy. The Order was thrilled to learn of a rogue within your ranks. It was entirely fabricated of course.” She waved her hand. “But it gave me the access I needed to learn the truth of what was really going on. Or at least enough of it to begin making plans. What you heard on the tape recording that night was me in character. I would never dishonor the sacrifice your friend made. Never.”
Her blue eyes pleaded with me to believe her and I had no choice. It would be folly to deny it when the truth was so blatant. It didn’t make it hurt any less, but at least now I understood why he’d been reading the books he’d had in his room that day and why he’d not fought me when I’d ripped his head off while in the grip of a full-on demon possession.
“Why is the Order after me? What in the hell have I done to them?” I asked on a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“The prophecy. You are the key to the end of days.”
My heart sank like a stone. All demons understood that someday we’d lose this war on humanity. The great and terrible war between heaven and hell will culminate in our ultimate destruction. It is a war we will not win and one we strive daily to stave off. It’s why the Neph work so hard to walk the fine line between light and death. To try to help tip the scales of justice in our favor for however long we can.
But prophecy was another thing. There were very few actual prophets to have ever existed. And the only true way to judge whether the prophets were real or hoax was if their words came true. If the prophecies all eventually came to pass, the prophet was real. If even one foretelling was false, his entire body of work was discredited. But it was one of those hindsight sort of things.
“Who wrote the prophecy?”
“His name was Josias of Smyrna.”
An ancient—it wasn’t sounding good. Though I’d never heard of this particular prophet, it didn’t mean that within established circles he wasn’t well known. “Who is he? What is his body of work?”
“The scrolls were discovered on papyrus sealed in clay jars on the Island of Patmos.”
“That’s nowhere near Smyrna.”
She shrugged. “The jars had clearly been moved. But the papyri had been excellently preserved. Ten years ago, the Order began reading through the scrolls. Most of it is nothing but a history of ancient Greece. Three months ago, they found the Josias prophecy. A nightmarish vision of demons unleashed, of a key, and a sketch of a woman’s face. Yours, Pandora.”
Her eyes pierced mine.
“Are you telling me he has no other body of work? That the Order is out to destroy me simply because of a drawing? Don’t forget that I lived back then. It’s entirely possible that whoever this Josiah is, he’d seen me.”
I couldn’t believe that all this betrayal, all these lies and red herrings had been devised and based on one sketch. “Does it even call me the key?”
“They haven’t let me read most of it. The scroll is now in the Triad’s hands, which is the ruling council of the Order. Pandora, whatever is on those scrolls has scared them enough that they’re on a witch hunt.”
“But how am I supposed to release Wrath? He’s bound by chains of iron forged by the hands of Michael himself. If I even tried to release him from those, I’d suffer instant death. I’m a demon—those chains are as deadly to me as they are to an HCD.”
Sick at heart, I rubbed my stomach. It made a perverse sense. Humans were a panicky bunch, it didn’t take much to make them react, and the mere whiff of Armageddon was sure to make the Order take drastic measures to ensure it didn’t happen on their watch.
“Then why aren’t they just coming into our camp and blowing it up?”
“Because while we have knowledge of how to kill you, at the end of the day we’re only human. But I promise you they’ll grow bolder with each unsuccessful attempt.”
“Is that why a hive of zombies descended on us?”
“When?” Her eyes narrowed shrewdly.
“Night past. But, Grace, those zombies were unlike any I’ve ever seen. The bite nearly killed me. I couldn’t heal until I’d tapped into a second demon I now host.”
“Second demon?” She sounded shocked, and I suddenly remembered I hadn’t told her about Pestilence. Backtracking, I got her up to speed about everything that’d gone down that night.
I still wasn’t entirely sure I could trust Grace again. Regardless of the fact that in the end it did seem she’d been working not against me, but with me, she’d also burned bridges that would never be rebuilt.
“What can you tell me about Asher? I know you know something—who is he? Who does he work for?”
She chuckled, patting her white sleep dress down. “He told me you might try to ask. There are powers in this world, Pandora, that once unleashed cannot be contained again. Walls have ears, the breeze whispers our secrets. To expose him would end him. But I can give you a hint. A place to start at least.”
The disappointment was instantly replaced by the excitement that I’d finally learn something. “What?”
“Massachusetts. The place where rock meets tree.”
That was vague at best, but I’d never jeopardize my priest. If that was all she could give me, then it would have to be enough. “I’m going to get to the bottom of all this. I vow it.” My conviction was absolute.
“Have faith.”
I scoffed.
“Dora.” She reached out just as I turned to go. “Keep your eyes always open. You can trust Asher, and Luc. Use them both, for they are the only ones who would lay down their lives to protect you.”
“Josias has me wrong.” I shook my head. “I am not the key. I’m going to prove that to the Order.”
She nodded once. “It’s why both Asher and I broke faith. Take care of yourself, Dora.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“I always have, Nephilim. Kemen should never have happened—it wasn’t at all what I would have wanted, but it was his wish and he was old enough to decide that. So honor his sacrifice as he meant it to be. The Order plays a deadly game, but you are not alone.”
“I want to believe you.” I’m sure she heard the but in there; I didn’t try to hide it.
Her face grew morose as she stared out the window of her room. “Be wary of the hive, Dora. I’ve never seen zombies such as these.”
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Licking her shriveled lips, she turned back to me. “Figure this out before we’re all dead.”
Her words were still ringing in my ears when I returned to Kemen’s trailer, which felt more mine now than my actual one parked just a few rows over. I’d been fooled by Grace before, but this time I’d gone in there with proverbial guns blazing, ready to suss out any betraying hint of a lie. Not only did I not hear her heartbeat quicken or witness a telltale sheen of sweat coating her face, her voice had remained full of conviction.
If she was lying, then I was a monkey’s uncle.
The endless questions and what-ifs played like a revolving door in my mind. I wanted to see that damn scroll more than anything, wanted to know what in the hell was in Massachusetts that had to do with my priest.
At least one question was answered, and that was why the Order so blatantly seemed to be coming after me.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I returned to my room, maybe a still-naked Asher. And if I had found that, I would have said “screw morals” and just taken him. Used his body to drive the thoughts away.
What I did not expect was to see Asher sitting on a chair, dressed in the same business attire of the night before, and Luc sitting across from him on a stool, dressed in jeans and a sweater.
Looking over my shoulder briefly, I thinned my lips. “Am I missing something here? What are you doing here, Luc? Last I checked, this was my trailer.”
“No.” He glowered, keeping his predatory gaze on the priest, “This belonged to Kemen, and I want that trash”—he jerked his thumb at Asher—“out of here.”
Having had about enough, I marched up to Luc and kicked him hard in the shin, hard enough that it would leave an ugly bruise.
“What the fuck!” He jumped to his feet, glaring down at me.
Shoving my finger in his face, I growled back. “I’ve had enough of this. The priest is my concern, and right now we have a lot bigger problems on our hands than your petty...” I wiggled my hands. “Whatever it is you’re feeling. So button it up, Luc, because you’re not going to like what I just found out.”
He was breathing less hard now, and his mottled face began to return to his normal, healthy, golden color. “Don’t kick me again.” He sat back down and rubbed his shin.
“Fine. Don’t threaten my guests.”
“Fine.”
Walking over to Ash, I sat on his lap, needing to feel his warmth on me. His fingers instantly brushed up and down my spine in a familiar gesture and I melted into that touch.
Luc scrubbed his jaw, looking at the wall beside him. The confines of our trailers didn’t at all fit with the parameters of normal reality. We’d learned how to manipulate space centuries ago, it was how we could live in such small areas comfortably. We were able to shift inside dimensions of what should have been a tight space into a comfy, roomy environment.
Kemen’s trailer was a silver, bullet-style Airstream, pill-shaped on the outside, not big enough to have more than a tiny kitchenette and hide-a-bed with a bathroom that would only serve to handle the most basic of human needs, but this space was more like living in a comfortable two-story home.
I hadn’t had the heart to take down any of Kemen’s décor. The man had been a bit of a geek, stapling posters all over the room of Einstein with tongue poking out and the periodic table, along with a couple of Dr. Who and TARDIS graphics. There were a couple of Deadhead prints up and one of a broad marijuana leaf with Bob Marley’s face beside it.
It was Kemen and familiar, and I loved it all.
Sighing, I drew on Ash’s quiet strength, just like I had at Grace’s.
“What did she tell you?” Luc finally seemed under control.
“That I’m destined to bring Wrath out of hiding.” My voice trembled just a little, even though I wasn’t willing to accept the predication as reality, it was terrifying to even think it.
Asher’s fingers dug into my thighs. Brushing my hand over his, I glanced at him. “Did you know that?”
“No.” He shook his head, tracing the curve of my cheek. “She hadn’t told me that.”
“How does she know that?” Luc asked.
“Apparently there’s some prophet.” I shook my head and proceeded to repeat verbatim the conversation I’d just had with her.
“It doesn’t make sense.” Luc stood, pacing back and forth and brushing his fingers through his messy blond locks.
He looked like hell today. Normally he was clean-shaven, but there was clearly evidence of two days’ growth of beard on him, and his eyes were bloodshot, like he’d been feasting on absinthe through the night and not between Vyxen’s thighs.
Gah, that sounded totally snotty of me, didn’t it?
“But the Order deciding all this based on some drawing”—he finger quoted—“feels premature at best.”
I shrugged. Far as I was concerned, he was preaching to the choir.
Asher cleared his throat. “Did she tell you anything else? Where the prophecy was located? With whom?”
“Not just whom. It’s with the Triad.”
“The Triad.” Luc growled, looking confused.
Asher’s hands immediately stilled. “Shit,” he muttered.
I frowned. “Am I missing out on something here?”
“Yeah.” Asher stood, hanging on to my hand. “We need to get to the hive now. I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on.”
“Wait!” Luc threw out his hand. “You’re going back to that desert?”
“That’s what Grace told us to do,” I said, frowning because I was still totally confused about Asher’s reaction to my mentioning that name.
“You’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.” Luc said it in such a way that I expected he was waiting for my denial of his offer.
“Good.” Asher nodded. “Because we’ll need you.”
Flinching as if completely confused by Asher’s reply, Luc said, “Give me a second to get Bubba up to speed on my duties for the day.”
The minute Luc traced, I whirled on Ash. “You planning to explain what that was all about when I mentioned the Triad?”
Grabbing my hand, he settled it on his rapidly beating heart.
“Priest, are you nervous?” I whispered, because there was no way my dangerous killer could be. Right? His pupils hadn’t just dilated, and his pulse wasn’t racing, it was all in my head. It had to be.
Cupping my cheek, he shook his head. “I’d be a fool to claim I wasn’t. Pandora, the Triad is no joke. I’m not surprised Grace couldn’t tell you much about them. Everything about that group is highly secretive and only known by a very few.”
“Then how do you know what I obviously don’t? She said they were just the head of the Order.”
He shook his head. “Pandora, since...” His nose curled as his lips pulled up. Sighing, he wrapped a strand of my hair around his finger and then sniffed it.
I grabbed his hand. “Tell me.”
“I can’t.” His jaw clenched. “Pandora, they’re bad. And they’re not human.”
“What? The Order is comprised of—”
“No.”
“But Grace said—”
“Doesn’t have the clearance to go that high. Little demon...” He grabbed my face, looking at me in such a way that I felt as if he were peering at my soul. “They won’t win.”
I swallowed hard.
Sulfur filled the room.
“Let’s go,” Luc drawled.