Chapter 45
"These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume.”
—William Shakespeare
The church looms at the end of the clearing like a monolith, pale as bone against the gray sky.
Through the rain, all I see is the flash of Ambrose’s black coat as he enters through the heavy wooden doors. I cry out to warn him, practically screaming his name, but he doesn’t hear me over the torrent of raindrops hurtling against the vinyl siding of the church.
The freezing air burns my lungs, coming out in clouds of vapor as I race to the doors, dead grass crunching underfoot.
The hinges shriek when I fling the door open. Inside, the air is still, the atmosphere blurring the thin line between sacred and sinister.
“What an unexpected surprise,” Samuel muses with a glance over his shoulder. All pretenses of goodness are gone, revealing the sinister creature beneath the mask. The warm glow that usually surrounds him is gone, replaced by a sharp crackling of frenetic energy.
Every one of the dozens of candles is lit, their light flickering throughout the room, throwing wavering shadows across every surface and illuminating the rich colors of the stained glass windows.
A small rush of relief fills me when I see Ambrose, still alive and well, standing near the pulpit. His eyes are trained on me, mirroring my relief but reflecting the same fear sinking into my skin with the situation we’ve found ourselves in.
Elias and Samuel face him, their backs to me, though Elias’ eyes flit between all of us with unease.
I freeze in the doorway, the gun heavy in my coat pocket, the necklace cold against my skin.
“Brielle, stay back. They’re dangerous,” Ambrose warns.
Before I can reply, Samuel says, “Oh, she’s well aware of who we are. Isn’t that right, Brielle?”
Ambrose’s jaw slackens as his eyebrows knit together in confusion, his gaze sliding from Samuel to me and back again. “What do you mean?”
“She’s been meeting us here for months now. Though it was my understanding that she’d be gone by now after we told her about your lies when it came to the bargain.”
“It’s not what you think,” Ambrose pleads, remorse and fear twisting his features.
I want to say the same thing, especially as a sneer crosses Samuel’s expression as he looks between us.
“What a tragedy,” he taunts. “The star-crossed lovers have both betrayed each other, and now they both will die.”
All the breath leaves my lungs as the reality of the situation sets in. They’re going to kill us.
The candles seem to flicker in response to the intensity of his words.
“Why are you doing this?” My voice breaks on the question.
Samuel chuckles. “I’ve been alive for centuries, and killing humans has become so… dull. They’re so gullible, so breakable. To you, it would be like picking up a newborn kitten and snapping its neck. And where’s the fun in something so simple?”
My stomach rolls at the image he paints in my mind.
He continues, “I got bored, needed a challenge. And what better way to challenge myself and gain hundreds of years at once than by taking the lives of those like me? It levels out the playing field, so to speak.”
“Must not have been too easy if you needed my help,” I snarl.
Harsh, white light flashes across his pupils. “Careful, girl. If I were you, I’d run while you still have a fighting chance of getting away.”
No. I’m done with running. I’m going to fight to my dying breath if that’s what it takes.
“You’re not killing him,” I say. My voice is strong despite the fear that’s so potent it’s paralyzing.
Samuel snarls, an ugly sound from such a beautiful mouth. “Still has you trained, I see.”
Ambrose, from where he stands on the pulpit, has managed to regain a semblance of his indifferent, wry persona. “Watch it, Sammy. She rather likes being my pet.”
The nickname makes me smile despite the dire situation we’ve found ourselves in.
And just like that, the room plunges into silence again. The only sound is the rain hammering against the stained glass windows, washing the dusty church in watery, dripping colors.
“Let’s get this over with so I never have to visit this godforsaken backwoods place again,” Samuel says. He steps forward toward Ambrose, raising his hand palm-up as white sparks begin to gather above his hand.
He’s going to kill him.
“No!” I yell, running toward his back without considering the death trap I’m walking into. I have to do something, anything. All my disdain for Ambrose is temporarily forgotten under the threat of losing him forever. We can argue later, but right now, I need to make sure he lives.
But when I reach Samuel, he simply turns and backhands me with a force that knocks me to the ground. So much power in such a simple flick of the wrist.
Fire sears through me, and my vision goes black momentarily, my head seeming weighted with stones that drag me downward as I collapse to the ground behind him.
I think I hear my name shouted in the distance, but everything is dark and nebulous.
My vision is blurred when I manage to crack open my eyes despite the pressure pounding against my skull, but I can see Samuel gathering that electricity again, allowing it to build and build until it contains enough force to take out a being as powerful as Ambrose, whose abilities are diminished without his necklace.
The necklace. I need to give him the necklace. But he’s so far away, and my limbs feel like they’re weighed down with lead. He seems to shift with the shadows, in and out of focus as he attempts to disorient Samuel.
It’s then that I realize the pistol is still in my coat pocket, the hard metal digging into my abdomen through the lining
As quickly and quietly as possible, I unzip my coat just enough to reach into the inner pocket. Elias’s gaze flits toward me, but he turns away, either pretending not to notice or not caring what I do since they’re essentially immortal.
Wait, shit. Will a gunshot even kill them? Probably not. I need their artifacts.
Think, think, think.
Through my blurred vision, I examine Samuel with increasing urgency. Then, it hits me. His pocket watch. He’s had it every time I’ve seen him and is constantly fidgeting with it. That has to be it.
Fighting the weakness still threatening to overtake me, I crawl over to Samuel, push myself up just enough to reach his waist level, reach out, and yank the thin gold chain that’s attached to his pants.
It interrupts his focus long enough for the light in his hand to fizzle out once more, and as soon as he turns to face me, I throw the onyx necklace as hard as I can in Ambrose’s direction, hoping it will provide him the strength and protection he needs.
If only one of us has to live, I want it to be him.
Even though I’ve begun to daydream about living out my days in the comfort of his cabin, even though I’m filled with a yearning for life that I’ve never had, even though our story has just begun and might already be coming to a tragic end.
I want to live.
Samuel gapes down at me with a furrowed brow, as if he’s shocked I’m even still alive in the first place. When he realizes what I’m holding—what I’ve taken from him—he lunges for me. But I’m too quick.
My gun is drawn and pointed at him, and the bang of the gunshot reverberates against the walls of the church, ringing in my ears, before everything falls into deafening silence.
Samuel is dead before he even hits the ground, the bullet going straight through his forehead. I back up just enough to miss the impact of his body hitting the ground.
Elias is five or six feet away—too far for me to reach him. I don’t know what his relic is either, but I point the gun at him all the same.
His eyes widen in fear. “Please don’t,” he croaks out, but he doesn’t move. My finger is still pressed against the trigger. I’m not sure why I hesitate.
“You helped him,” I say. The words feel thick on my tongue, like I’m speaking through a mouthful of cotton. “You lied to me. Tried to kill Ambrose.” My vision swims, and I’m sure it’s only the fury burning through me keeping me conscious.
He shakes his head frantically, taking small steps backward, but he’s trapped between the pews with his back facing the wall.
I could shoot him right now and not feel an ounce of regret. I could kill yet another man—angel, demon, whatever the hell he really is—and justify the action without a second thought.
“It was never part of the plan,” he pleads. “Everything got out of control so quickly with him. Please give me a chance to explain.”
“Standing aside to encourage evil deeds makes you no better than the perpetrator.” I take a deep, shaky breath, but it doesn’t feel like enough oxygen. I take another, and another, until I’m practically hyperventilating. What’s happening to me?
My fingertips are numb, but I know I’m only a fraction of an inch away from putting another bullet in someone who tried to kill the only man I’ve ever truly loved.
“Brielle.” I don’t even realize Ambrose has moved until his voice is directly in my ear. He gently places a hand over my forearm and presses down, forcing me to lower the gun. “It’s exceedingly rare for me to say this, but I think he deserves a second chance.”
I nod, letting the gun clatter to the floor as my body continues to revolt against me. My eyes flutter closed.
“You saved me,” Ambrose murmurs in awe. “Please be okay.”
I sink deeper into unconsciousness.
“Please,” Ambrose whispers. “I can’t lose you too.”
They’re the last words I hear before I fade into darkness.