Chapter 34 #2
"Can't." I try to sit up, fail. "Too much. Too many voices."
"They're not voices," Croesus says. "Just emotions. You'll learn to filter them. But that takes time."
"Time we don't have."
"No." His hand finds mine, squeezes. "But you'll manage. You're stronger than you think."
Through all seven bonds, I feel their agreement. Even Seraph, even Caspian, they all believe I can do this.
I wish I had their confidence.
Dawn comes cold and gray.
We gather at an abandoned industrial complex on the outskirts of the city, neutral ground, chosen specifically because it's far from populated areas. If this goes wrong, at least we won't take civilians with us.
The seven angels stand in a loose circle around me. I feel their tension. Their readiness. Their fear.
"We can't stay," Seraph says abruptly. "The archangel will sense us the moment they arrive. Seven fallen angels in one place, we might as well send up a signal flare."
"But..." I start.
"The bonds will work regardless of distance," Croesus interrupts, though through our connection I feel his hatred of this plan. "We'll retreat to our respective houses. You'll still be able to pull on our power, the bonds don't have a range limit."
"You're leaving me alone?" My voice cracks.
"We have to." Kael's ember eyes are sympathetic. "If the archangel senses us here, they'll know it's a trap. They'll either not engage, or they'll call for reinforcements. Either way, you die. And we’d all go to war."
"But if we're not physically present," Dorian adds gently, "then as far as Heaven knows, you're just a sin eater who happens to be very powerful. The bonds are internal, invisible to everyone except us."
We'll still feel everything, Idris assures me.
"And we'll be ready to come if the plan fails," Lysander says. "Treaty be damned."
"No." Seraph's voice is sharp. "If this fails, if she dies, we do not break the treaty. That's the whole point of this plan, plausible deniability. The archangel must believe she's acting alone."
I feel Croesus's fury at that. His desperate need to stay, to protect me, warring with the cold logic that says this is our only chance.
"He's right," I say quietly. "You have to go."
"Raven..."
"Go." I look at Croesus, trying to memorize his face. "I can do this. I have to."
He pours everything into me, love, strength, absolute faith. Then, reluctantly, he nods.
"We'll be watching through the bonds," he says. "Pull on us. Use everything we can give you. Don't hold back."
"I won't."
One by one, the angels disappear. Portals opening to their respective houses, golden light and smoke and mirrors swallowing them.
Croesus is the last to leave. He cups my face, presses his forehead to mine.
"Survive," he whispers. "Whatever it takes. Survive."
"I will."
He kisses me, desperate, claiming, terrified, and then he's gone.
I stand alone in the center of the abandoned complex. Truly alone, for the first time since the ritual.
Except I'm not alone. Through the bonds, I feel all seven of them. Distant now, miles and dimensions away in their houses, but still present. Still connected.
Still ready to pour their power through me when I need it.
Minutes pass. The sun rises higher. Nothing happens.
Maybe they're not coming. Maybe the vision was wrong.
Reality BENDS.
It's the only word for it. The air twists, warps, and suddenly there's a column of white-gold light so bright, it hurts to look at.
When the light fades, he's there.
The archangel.
He's massive, eight feet tall at least, with armor that gleams like polished pearl. Six wings spread behind him, each feather looking sharp enough to cut. His face is beautiful in that terrible way angels are, too perfect, too symmetrical, inhuman.
And his eyes. Gods, his eyes are burning white, like looking into the sun.
"Raven Vesper." His voice is thunder. "The last of the Vesper line. You are called to account."
I try to speak, but my throat won't work. He's too much. Too powerful. Too divine.
"You have seen what should not be seen. Known what should not be known." He draws a sword that seems to be made of pure light. "For this crime, the sentence is death."
He moves.
I barely have time to think before he's on me, sword raised, about to strike,
I PULL.
On all seven bonds at once, desperate, terrified, acting on pure instinct.
And seven deadly sins flood through me.
Gold erupts from my hands, Croesus's greed, turning the archangel's sword arm to metal. He stumbles, surprised.
Fire follows, Kael's wrath, burning hot enough to scorch his armor. He screams.
I move with impossible grace, Seraph's pride, making me perfect in combat, anticipating his counter-strike.
Envy lets me see what he wants, to kill me, to silence the truth, and I twist away from his grab.
Lust makes my movements fluid, distracting, harder to track.
Gluttony lets me pull at his divine energy, draining it.
And apathy... apathy slows time around me, makes me faster by comparison.
I'm cycling through all seven sins, using them as weapons, and the archangel is actually struggling.
"Impossible," he gasps. "You're human. You can't."
I pull harder on the bonds. Channel more power. My body is screaming, it's too much, I'm not meant to hold this, but I don't stop.
Can't stop.
The archangel swings his sword. I catch it with golden hands, turn it to metal, shatter it with heat.
"What are you?" he demands.
Through the bonds, I feel the seven angels watching. Their power flowing through me. Their emotions mixing with mine until I can't tell where they end and I begin.
"I'm more than human," I snarl, and my voice echoes with seven different tones. "I'm–"
The archangel's eyes widen. He's staring at the bonds, the seven threads of light connecting me to seven points in the shadows. Seven deadly sins tied to a single mortal vessel.
"No." His voice is horror now, not anger. "No, you fool."
"What?"
"You have no idea what you've done." He's backing away now, his burned arm hanging useless. "What you've allowed to happen."
"I'm surviving. That's what I've done."
"The bonds." He's staring at the threads inside me, and there's genuine terror in his burning eyes. "Seven bonds to a single vessel of their bloodline."
I pull on all seven bonds simultaneously, preparing to finish this.
"The Morningstar—" he gasps. "The reunion, you've begun it."
What?
But I don't have time to ask. Don't have time to understand. He's raising his remaining hand, divine fire gathering,
I channel everything. Every sin, every bond, every ounce of power flowing through me.
I don't just hit him.
I unmake him.
Gold and fire and power, all seven sins focused through me, tearing apart his divine essence. He tries to scream, but his voice is already scattering.
His final words, whispered as he dissolves: "She's begun...the reunion... Gods help us all..."
Then he's gone. Truly, completely gone. Divine energy scattering like dust in the wind.
I did it.
I stand there, shaking, as the power drains out of me. Then fall to my knees as if my body doesn’t have the power to hold me up any longer. The bonds are still there, still connecting me to the angels, but they're not blazing with power anymore.
It feels like a heartbeat only when the seven angels emerge from their portals again, appearing around me in flashes of light and shadow. They must have felt my collapse.
Croesus reaches me first, catching me before I fall back to the ground. "Raven!"
I'm burning from the inside. My veins feel like they're filled with molten gold, my skin is too hot, and I can't stop shaking.
"What did he mean?" I gasp through the pain. "The reunion? The–"
"Don't." Croesus's voice is sharp. His hand covers my mouth gently but firmly. "Don't repeat what he said. Don't even think about it."
I look up at him, confused, terrified.
The angels are surrounding me now, and their faces, all of them, have gone completely blank. Stone-faced. Shuttered.
"What did he mean?" I try again when Croesus removes his hand.
Silence. Complete, absolute silence.
"Tell me!" The bonds flare with my desperation, and I feel all seven of them flinch.
"No," Seraph says flatly. His mirror eyes are cold, distant. "And you need to stop asking. Now."
"But–"
"Some knowledge will get you killed," Kael interrupts. "You've heard this before. After the vision. This is the same. Worse, even."
Please. Idris's voice in my mind is desperate. Stop asking. For your own sake.
"You all know what he meant." I'm shaking, from the power drain, from fear, from frustration. "I felt it through the bonds. The moment he spoke, you all–"
"Felt nothing," Dorian says quietly. His warm brown eyes are sad but firm. "We felt nothing. We know nothing. And neither do you. Understand?"
It's a warning. A plea. A command all at once.
I look around at all seven of them. Seven fallen angels who are lying to me. Who clearly recognized something in the archangel's dying words. Who went from confused to terrified to absolutely locked down in the span of seconds.
And who are going to take whatever secret they understood to their graves rather than tell me.
"Fine," I whisper finally.
"Smart girl," Lysander says, but there's no flirtation in his voice. Just relief.
"Now," Croesus says, his hands on my face forcing me to look at him. "You channeled too much power. Your body is burning itself out. We need to get you back to the house, stabilize you, "
"The bonds," I gasp. "They feel wrong. Too strong. Like they're..."
"We'll handle it," Seraph cuts in. "But not here. Not in the open where Heaven might send another archangel."
Caspian opens a portal with visible effort. "Bring her.”
Croesus lifts me easily. I feel his terror mixing with something else. Something that might be guilt.
They all know something. Something the archangel said that made them recognize a danger I can't see.
But they're not going to tell me.
And as Croesus carries me through the portal, as consciousness starts to slip away, I can only feel one thing through six of the bonds:
Fear.
Not fear for me.
Fear of what I've become.