chapter Fifty-Five
Schuyler
y father? Schuyler wondered, even as she felt her consciousness beginning to fade; as her lifeblood seeped out and death approached.
My father?
Why would Jack tell her that her father could help her?
How could he be so merciless to say such a thing?
My father is dead. My father is buried in the ground. He is no help to anyone.
Then she realized...
Her father.
Her immortal father.
Charles Force. Michael. Her father. This was Allegra's secret. This was the key of the twins, the sangreal. Schuyler had had a human father to create a new life, but somehow, she was also Michael and Gabrielle's daughter.
Schuyler remembered those days at the hospital, at Allegra's bedside, and her intuition, the thought that had popped into her head when she'd seen the gray-haired man kneeling in her mother's room, asking for her forgiveness. What had she called him then? Father.
They had the same dark hair, though his had gone gray. They shared a bond that neither of them had acknowledged. For Allegra's secret had been hidden so deeply when she'd broken the bond, when she'd married her human familiar. The truth of Schuyler's heritage had to remain a secret, even from her own father.
Father.
Help me.
Help me.
Father.
From the White Darkness, a sword appeared in her hand.
Michael's sword.
The Blade of Paradise. The Golden Sword of Heaven.
Her father's sword.
She gripped its hilt and slashed at the invisible bindings that held her, and she could feel the strength returning to her body, could feel the wound on her neck begin to heal. She leapt from the stone table, holding her sword aloft.
Lucifer roared and urged his dark armies to her destruction, and Schuyler cowered as the Dark Prince lunged toward her with hatred in his eyes, his own sword blazing white with the fire of Heaven.
But the blow never landed, as Jack threw himself upon her to shield her from the attack.
"Jack!" she screamed.
He looked at her tenderly, and she knew that he had never been false. That there had been a reason for his actions. He had drunk from her, she realized now, to keep Lucifer from doing the same.
"Hey you." She smiled and traced a finger on his cheek. "Where have you been?"
"Right here, always," Jack murmured, kissing her all over her face, her neck. But there was little time for tenderness.
Lucifer reared up with ferocious strength, and the Dark Prince loomed over them. His fangs bared, he was no longer beautiful, no longer bright as the sun, but revealed as Hell's eternal king, as the horrific monster he was, dark and twisted and evil. Schuyler held on to Jack and prepared for Lucifer to do his worst.
But out of the shadows, out of the darkness, powerful beasts emerged, ready for blood. The wolves of the guard.