The Sweetest Burn (Broken Destiny #2)

*

WE ALL RODE in the limo, but our destination turned out to be so close that we could have walked to it: St. Patrick’s Cathedral. If the past hour hadn’t been such a whirlwind of the impossible made real, I would’ve been impressed to see Brutus perched on one of the cathedral’s soaring towers, beating his wings as if claiming it for himself. Then Zach walked up to the massive doors of the elaborately styled, multistory church and, with a burst of light from his hands, broke the locks open.

I followed Adrian inside. Brutus landed with a thump moments later, and then the gargoyle entered the church. If I’d thought the exterior was impressive, the interior put it to shame. Instead of pale gray-colored stone rising majestically into tall, pointed peaks, the inside walls were warm amber shades, and that effect was deepened by the countless candles that Zach somehow caused to blaze with light as we walked down the long aisle.

When we reached the altar, the curved archways and magnificent stained glass windows faded into insignificance as I turned to face Adrian. His gaze was almost feral in its intentness, but a smile curved his lips as he stared down at me.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s more than memorable.” Even my whisper sounded loud in the huge, empty building. “It’s unforgettable.”

“Adrian,” Zach said, suddenly sounding even more formal than his usual stuffy style. “Take Ivy’s hand.”

He did, and the warm curl of his fingers around mine stilled my nervousness. I didn’t know what this ritual involved, but my experience with the supernatural made me brace for a lot of pain. Still, I’d go through agony with a smile to prolong this moment. For longer than I could imagine, Adrian had been told that his choices had already been made for him. That no matter what he did or what he wanted, his life would culminate in an awful, unavoidable betrayal. Yet still, he’d fought with everything he had, and now, I was about to be an integral part of his victory.

And my victory, too. In my darkest days, I’d thought what I felt for Adrian was fate’s cruel twist on top of an already impossible destiny. After all, I wasn’t some great savior, prophecy or no prophecy. I was just a girl doing the best I could while knowing that it probably wouldn’t be enough. But right now, I didn’t have to be the last Davidian, with all of the expectations, pressures and supernatural challenges that came with that title. I could just be Ivy, and as I looked at Adrian, I didn’t see the last Judian, either. I saw the man I loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life with, however long or short that turned out to be. I thought I’d known what happiness was, but those instances had been mere shadows and glimpses of what I felt now, with Adrian holding my hand and Zach about to tether our souls together.

“Ivy,” Zach said. “Take Adrian’s hand.”

I did. With our hands clasped right to right and left to left, our arms formed a loose X between us. Zach closed his eyes, held his palms up and began to speak in a language I’d only heard once before.

Demonish sounded beautiful yet harsh, with each syllable a melody broken by roughness at the last moment. I didn’t know the official name of the language it had originated from, but that was what Zach was speaking now. Angel-speak, I’d called it the other time I’d heard it, and I’d thought that memory had exaggerated its indescribable exquisiteness. Instead, it had dulled it. Listening to it was like having every stunning visual I’d ever seen transformed into acoustics and then poured into my mind. It was hypnotic, euphoric, and when I felt wetness on my cheeks, I realized that it had brought me to tears.

Then light began to halo Zach, until it consumed his trademark blue hoodie and jeans, leaving him clothed in brightness that rivaled the stars. That light overflowed Zach, spilling out to encompass the altar, Adrian and even myself.

I closed my eyes against the searing brightness, and still light filled my vision. Zach’s voice changed, turning into what sounded like the roar of multitudes. The sound was piercing, painful and beauteous all at the same time. My mind and body ached from sensory overload, until I would’ve run out of an instinctive need to protect myself, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even pull my hands away from Adrian’s though it suddenly felt as if I was falling from a great height.

I would’ve screamed, but then something ripped out of me with such force that I felt torn in two. Before I could begin to process that, a tidal wave crashed into me, flooding the parts that had been ripped away. For a few brief moments, I was no longer only Ivy. I was someone else, too.

I grew up in a darkly glittering world where strange and beautiful demons gave me and my mother everything we wanted, especially the shadow man, Demetrius. To save this world, I learned to fight, wanting nothing more than to erase the fear in my mother’s eyes when she spoke of Archons and to see the pride in Demetrius’s when I finally fulfilled my destiny to save her, him and the rest of our people.

Then I discover the ugliness I hadn’t been shown before in our realms. I sneak out and visit the half light, half dark world and discover it’s different from everything I’ve been told. It holds real beauty, and I’ve become a monster. I seek death by searching for the Archons I’ve long been warned about, yet when one finds me, he doesn’t kill me. Instead, he shows me the truth. Demetrius and the person I thought was my mother were one and the same. He’d killed her, then used her likeness my whole life to trick me.

My rage consumes me. I will deny my people their victory by refusing to fulfill the fate I’d once longed for. I will never go near the last Davidian, let alone betray her.

And then she appears...

I fell back into myself, until all I could feel were my own aches and pains. Adrian’s thoughts, emotions and memories were no longer slamming into my consciousness with feature-film-like clarity. When I dragged my eyelids open, we were both slumped on the floor in front of the altar, our bodies twisted away from each other, yet our hands still clasped together.

“It is done,” Zach said from above us.

He was standing only a few feet away, and yet his voice sounded far-off. Maybe that was from the blood still roaring through my ears, or from my ragged breaths as I tried to get ahold of myself mentally and physically.

Adrian’s eyes met mine. His face was ashen and his hair was tangled as if a windstorm had blown through here. For all I knew, it had. I certainly felt like more had happened than merely falling to the floor. If I had one, it hurt.

“You okay?” he rasped, sitting up.

I sat up, too, and leaned against the altar, trying to even out my gasping by taking in slow, deep breaths. “Mostly.”

He didn’t say anything. Then he pulled his hands free and looked up at Zach. In a voice that echoed like the rumbling of thunder, Adrian said, “Why didn’t you tell me that Demetrius was my father?”