Chapter 33
The world started up again, everyone back in their places like actors reset in a play.
Gabriel looked at him. His voice was quiet but clear. “I’m sorry.” He smiled, a small, fond curl of his lips.
Miles returned it this time. Let his heart crack open and bleed across his face where Gabriel could see every silly, overwhelming emotion. He didn’t have time for all the things he wanted to say, so a smile would have to do. “I’m sorry too.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows scrunched in that confused-concerned expression of his that Miles adored so much.
Before he could be stupidly heroic, Miles knocked the stake out of his hand as hard as he could. It went spinning through the air, landing in the darkness with a clatter.
Felicity sprang after it like a dog on a chain.
Gabriel gaped down at his empty hand. “What—?”
“Trust me.” Selfishly, Miles took one more second with Gabriel, brushing their fingers together in a fleeting flare of warmth. He was so beautiful. “Get Bram and Emily out of here, okay?”
Turning away was the hardest thing he’d ever done. But he made his legs move, racing after Felicity and the stake. If she didn’t have it, she couldn’t sacrifice anyone else.
Robin beat them both to it, staring down in confusion like she didn’t understand how it’d gotten into her hand. The dark magic had given up on playing pretend, piloting her body around as it desired.
“Aunt Robin, listen to me, please.” Miles held out his hand, shifting closer. “I know you’re still in there. Just give it to me, okay?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Felicity scoffed. The strap of one of her heels had broken, flopping around limply, and her dress had a dirty smudge down the front. “Give it to me so we can finish this already.”
Robin’s attention darted back and forth, a frightened animal trying to decide which predator would strike first. Which path might provide safety.
Miles took another step. “It’s not too late. You haven’t hurt anyone yet.” She’d only been about to let him get dragged into hell. “There’s still time to fix this, to make everything right.”
“Make things right by doing what you came here to do. Power is still yours for the taking.”
“Don’t listen to her—”
“He’s a fool—”
“Mom!” A shout punctured through the chaos.
Charlee swayed in the doorway of the tomb, bone-white, but alive. Healed, just like Robin had said. Miles wanted to fall to his knees and sob.
How was she here?
She locked eyes with her mom. “Charlee,” Robin breathed. Her grip on the stake went slack, the tip dipping towards the floor.
Felicity lunged, fast as a striking cobra, and snatched it from her hand. Shoving Robin aside, she stepped in close enough that Miles could see the darkness swirling amongst the gray of her irises—the same stormy shade as Gabriel’s— and stabbed him in the stomach.
Several people screamed, the sounds overlapping in a harsh cacophony.
It was funny. Miles had only a split second to think about dying before he’d committed to the idea, but it still didn’t feel how he’d expected.
He’d just been staked, like some lame vampire, a literal hunk of wood sticking out of him, and it didn’t even hurt.
All he could feel was an icy, numbing chill radiating from it. It was almost soothing.
The room tilted. Miles wound up on his side, blinking at grimy stone and Felicity’s flopping shoe strap. Hands pushed at his no-longer-sore shoulder, rolling him onto his back. Gabriel’s face came into view, which was unarguably a much better sight to die to.
“You idiot,” Gabriel rasped. For a moment, Miles thought he had glitter streaked down his face like in the car last night, but they were only tears. “You absolute idiot. I told you to leave, I told you—”
Charlee threw herself onto the ground beside them, hands fluttering frantically over the stake lodged in Miles. “Oh my God, don’t move, okay, don’t move.” Her hands went under his head, cradling him.
He wasn’t planning on it. There wasn’t any pain yet, but his hands and feet were starting to sting with pins and needles.
“How could you?” Charlee sobbed, the words mangled by rage as she threw them at her mom. “How could you do this?”
Aunt Robin flinched back, stumbling over her own feet. Her hand jumped to the ring around her neck, pulling the chain until it bit into her flesh.
“It’s the magic,” Gabriel told Charlee tightly. Miles was glad—he didn’t have the breath for words, but she needed to know. Whatever happened, he didn’t want Charlee to think her mom had done this intentionally. “She’s being controlled by the grimoire. It promised your father back.”
His words only made Charlee cry harder. Miles wanted to comfort her, but moving seemed impossible.
“Do the ritual, now,” he heard Felicity bark. “You need your own stake, before he bleeds to death and becomes worthless to you.”
“I can’t—Charlee’s here—” Robin stammered. She sounded like herself. “She’s not supposed to be here.”
Hot hands pressed against Miles’s face like a shock. “Focus on me.” Gabriel’s frightened eyes hovered over him, silvery and wet. “Look at me.”
He hadn’t realized he wasn’t. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Don’t—don’t apologize.” Gabriel leaned in and pressed his forehead to Miles’s, and Miles felt his hiccupping inhale. “I’m not angry. Just keep your eyes open, alright?”
Gabriel’s tears splashed down onto his face.
Footsteps echoed over the stone. Charlee let out a feral, animalistic noise. “Get away from him! I’ll kill you if you touch him!” Her fingers curled into Miles’s hair like talons, nails pricking his scalp.
“Gabriel, stop sniveling and get up,” Felicity said cooly, not acknowledging that Charlee had spoken. “It’s done. Take the stake to Jocelyn. Do your part before anyone else gets hurt.”
“Don’t close your eyes,” Gabriel repeated, like he hadn’t heard her. The words were barely a whisper against Miles’s lips. “You’re going to be fine. We’ll get you out of here.”
Miles wanted to believe him, but he knew it wasn’t true.
They’d never get that ice cream date. He’d never get the chance to kiss him again, on each knuckle, the delicate skin of his wrist, the curve of his shoulder, working his way meticulously through the million ways he wanted to.
Never get to tell him that he had showed Miles the things important enough to fight for, and given him the courage for the first time in his life to do so.
Bram and Emily joined them, sinking to their knees. It was nice they were here. Miles wished he could see his parents too. He needed to tell them it wasn’t Gabriel’s fault, so they didn’t go back to hating him.
“Amy and Jenna—” he tried.
“They’re okay,” Charlee reassured him. “They’re with your parents outside, getting checked over. Just hold on, they’ll be here any minute.”
“It’s okay,” Miles tried to tell everyone. The words were slurred, bitter mush in his mouth. “This was supposed to happen.”
Gabriel rattled against him.
Emily spoke too low for him to catch, linking hands with Bram and Charlee. Their arms formed a lopsided circle over him. It was sweet, like they were giving him one big hug goodbye. Ducking her head, Emily whispered to herself.
“Gabriel.” Miles had forgotten Felicity was still here, her voice rapidly undoing the whole dying-in-peace sensation he’d been sinking into. “I’m not going to tell you again.”
Her pale hand reached for the stake, still buried in Miles’s stomach. Without releasing Emily and Bram, Charlee twisted and bit down on her arm. Felicity shrieked, falling back, fingers clamped over the bleeding wound.
His cousin grinned, her teeth stained red with blood. If Miles had the energy, he’d laugh.
“You little bitch!” Blood dripped onto the floor and gleamed like fat rubies. She drew her hand back as if to hit Charlee. “How dare you—”
A sudden gush of air whipped through the tomb, the candles sputtering. Electricity crackled, aching in Miles’s teeth. In the middle of Bram, Emily, and Charlee’s circle around him, Rosalie Warren appeared.
Emily stopped whispering, shoulders slumping.
Either Rosalie was unnaturally quick on the uptake, or she took a single look at Felicity and knew she was bad news, because before Miles could open his mouth to say hello, she waved her hand and sent Felicity flying into a nearby pillar.
It was about time someone handed her ass to her. Miles’s money was on Rosalie, her face pure righteous wrath as she flew after her.
As much as he wanted to watch, seeing Rosalie reminded Miles that Jocelyn was still on her altar.
“Hey.” Miles fumbled for Gabriel, clumsy with exhaustion. Black spots were starting to speckle the corners of his vision.
Gabriel squeezed his fingers. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Jocelyn said… death is a release,” Miles told him, guiding Gabriel’s hand to the knife on his belt. “I need you to do it. I can’t. Please.”
He understood what Miles was asking. Sliding the blade free of its hilt, he stood. Across the tomb, Felicity staggered to her feet, swearing at Rosalie.
Miles tugged Charlee’s sleeve. “Help me sit,” he croaked, tasting blood. The ceiling was starting to swirl, and it was making him sick. He didn’t want the last thing he did to be puking all over his friends.
Charlee shifted him up enough that he could lean into her, his head resting on her shoulder. Her frizzy curls tickled his nose, smelling of sweet coconut and honey.
Together, they watched as Gabriel made his way to Jocelyn’s platform. She gazed up at him with those blazing eyes. Her lips moved as she spoke to him, and her fingertips grazed his hand holding the knife.
He nodded, tears dripping down his pointed chin as he lifted it high.
“No!” Felicity screamed.
It was over quickly, the blade finding a home between the stakes in her breast. A stunning grin spread across Jocelyn’s face, and she reached up to touch Gabriel’s cheek. When she went limp, he caught her wrist, lowering her arm gently to lay at her side.