My mother stood on a green hillside, her black dress flapping in a breeze. Tears ran down her face. I knew this image. This place. It was the cemetery in the Santa Cruz Mountains where we’d buried my dad.
Mom looked down at his headstone, and the engraved inscription came into focus.
GIDEON CHRISTOPHER BLAKE
Except that was wrong. My dad was Christopher Gideon Blake. My parents had given me his name, only reversed.
I was seeing my funeral. I was seeing my mother mourn me.
Would that be enough to persuade you? Ra’om asked. Or would this?
The image faded out, then another faded in.
Anna. My sister was on the floor of an empty room, rocking in a ball on the grimy concrete. She cried and ripped out chunks of her dark hair. She tore at her own face with her nails and made herself bleed as she begged me to make it stop.
Me. Like I was doing that to her.
Yes. I’m getting to you, aren’t I? What about this, Gideon?
The image changed again, and I was seeing a party, everything dark and blurred except the golden shine of Daryn’s hair. I moved toward her, fighting through the crowd. As I finally reached her, I saw that she wasn’t alone. She stood tucked beneath a guy’s arm, smiling up at him like they were together. Then he looked right at me, and I saw that it was Samrael. And, somehow, I knew that she was with him because I’d failed. Because I’d let her down.
It was destroying me to see them together, but I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t even speak.
All I could do was watch.
Then it was me. I saw myself standing on the warped shingle roof of a yellow bungalow in Half Moon Bay. At my feet, my dad clung to the gutter, about to fall. He looked at me and asked for help. If I didn’t help, he was going to die.
I reached down. I picked up the yellow pencil from inside the gutter. Then I stood and watched the strength leave his fingers. Watched as he fell and hit the red bricks of the walkway below. I just stood there.
More, Gideon? Or will you bring me the key?
CHAPTER 39
After that, I lost some time. I wasn’t conscious but I wasn’t unconscious, either. I was trapped in the middle somewhere.
I only remember pieces of what happened next. The dread-locked woman lifting her head and letting out a long, baying sound. Samrael releasing me and leaving with the other Kindred. Responding to a threat that was beyond me. No more Ra’om—that was all I cared about—but I wasn’t free yet.
Nausea hit me. Stomach-clenching nausea, like a concussion and motion sickness, plus the sensation that my brain had been thoroughly ransacked.
I bent over my legs and heaved, riding out the shaking in my muscles, the coughing, and the bitter taste on my tongue. It took me long minutes to regain some control. As I straightened and looked around me, I still felt weak and disoriented.
The darkness Alevar had released from his wings was lifting. Under the glow of the streetlights, the wet cobblestones looked like gold, the apartment windows like crystal. Night had never seemed so bright to me before.
I realized I didn’t have the sword any longer. I had a vague recollection of calling it back just before Samrael had introduced me to Ra’om. I’d tapped into the same feeling as when I’d summoned it. A singular purpose. A clear intention. I was almost sure I could achieve that again.
So at least one good thing had come out of this.
As I found my composure, I became aware of someone watching me from the end of the street. A guy in a dark coat sat on one of the apartment stoops. Blond hair. About my age, from what I could tell. I had a feeling he’d been there for the past few minutes while I’d hacked up my intestines. I also had a pretty good idea of who he was thanks to the cuff, but I didn’t go after him yet. I didn’t trust myself to.
“Gideon!”
Daryn and Marcus came running from the other end of the street. Daryn flew into my arms. I yanked her close and hugged her hard, needing to feel her realness. Ra’om had knocked down some part of me that still couldn’t seem to get back up.
“What happened?” Daryn said, drawing back. “Gideon, your nose.”
“Don’t know.” I felt it now, the swelling and the pain. And I tasted blood on my tongue. “Busted it. Daryn, where were you?”
My voice sounded like it had gone through a shredder, and I was having trouble concentrating. Daryn was right in front of me, but I had to keep telling myself that she was okay. That my mom and Anna were, too.
Marcus looked away, noticing the guy on the stoop.
“We had to leave,” Daryn said. “I tried to get you on the radio. I know you wanted us to stay, but Alevar saw us, then left. We thought he was going to get the rest of the Kindred.”
She looked at Marcus, waiting for him to jump in and help explain.
“Has he been there a while?” Marcus asked, his eyes still locked on Conquest.
“Ten minutes.”
We didn’t say another word, but we both knew what needed to happen. We took off like heat-seeking missiles.