CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The force of the angel’s presence was ancient. Terrifying.
Standing before him, even though I was a short distance away, I felt young and small. I had no idea what to say or where to start. Collith and Laurie were also silent, as if they’d been overwhelmed by his power, too.
Michael got to his feet, wincing. I frowned and searched for any visible injuries. Had he been hurt during his descent?
“We cannot stay here,” the angel warned, shifting his stance. “My brother is searching for me. He is in this desert, but I cannot determine his location.”
He meant Lucifer. Fear darted through me.
“Wait!” I blurted, taking a step forward. Michael paused. Without thinking I said, “Does He know?”
I wasn’t just talking about the devil, but I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t say the rest. Somehow, Michael still understood the question perfectly. “The Maker knows all, Lady Sworn,” he told me.
That’s what I was afraid of. Pain and fury ripped into my heart like rabid dogs. My voice shook as I said, “If the big guy knows everything, and He’s aware of all the awful shit that happens here, why not do something about it?”
“That is not the Maker’s place. When They gave you free will, They relented the ability to control the outcome of your choices.”
A vile insult rose in my throat, but I swallowed it. Like he’d said, we didn’t have any time to waste. “Where is the grave?” I asked Michael bluntly.
The angel shook his head, but those ancient eyes were devoid of any remorse. “That would be interfering, my lady.”
Frustration erupted in my chest, and the heat of it melted away my fear. “Interfering?” I repeated in disbelief.
“There are rules that cannot be broken. Laws and equations that hold the worlds together. The Maker does not interfere because even They must adhere to them. So They help in whatever ways They can. Nudges. Whispers. The sort of interferences that still leave the choice up to you. That leave your free will untouched.”
“Nudges? Are you saying … you’re saying this was all God’s plan?” I made an abrupt gesture toward the desert. “Meeting Gwyn, Dracula, the Rat King, all the rest—you’re trying to tell me we were just telling a story that was written for us?”
This time, Michael didn’t respond. I knew he was about to leave again, and I should let him, if Lucifer really was somewhere nearby. Desperation made my heart quicken. We had to know where the grave was. Lucifer would get to it, one way or another, and he needed to find it empty when he did.
“Who is Thuridan? You can at least tell me that. Why was he so important to Jassin? Why did Lucifer take him?” I shot the questions at Michael like bullets, relentless, reckless.
Collith shifted beside me, as if he was stopping himself from intervening. I glanced over at him, and then Laurie, but the Seelie King was focused on Michael, his silver eyes shuttered and calculating. I turned back to the angel, still frantically hopeful that he would give us answers.
Michael’s features shifted slightly, as if he’d reached a decision. “As you know,” he said, “Jassin served the Dark Prince, who spoke to him in his dreams. My brother bid Jassin to protect the boy.”
“And why did Thuridan need to be protected?” I asked, hardly daring to breathe. We were actually getting somewhere, and part of me was terrified Michael would clam up any second.
He searched the horizon, and I watched the rising sun paint his skin red.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Michael swallowed a resigned sigh just before he said, “Because his true name is Thuridan of bloodline Olorel. On the day of the Fall, the boy snuck into the Battle of Red Pearls and followed his father through the tear. He inherited Olorel’s abilities at a tender age, and Olorel had the foresight to fake his son’s death before he sacrificed his own.
He knew the Dark Prince might seek to use that power for his own gain.
“But Heilel watched everything through his dreams and mirrors—he knew the truth, not only that Thuridan was alive, but what the boy could do. Once Olorel was gone, Heilel selected Jassin as the child’s guardian. He had a witch alter the boy’s appearance so the other elders wouldn’t recognize him.”
Michael paused again, and I was so afraid it would end there.
After months of fruitless searching and wondering, we finally had a chance to learn the truth.
We could finally gain the upper hand on Lucifer, or at least feel less like fools stumbling around in the dark.
“You still haven’t answered the question,” I pressed.
“How does Thuridan fit into Lucifer’s plans?
Why does the devil need to find Olorel’s grave? ”
As I spoke, I tried to hide the extent of my eagerness, as if it might stop Michael from answering.
I didn’t miss that Collith and Laurie still hadn’t made a sound, either.
The angel’s gaze returned to me, deeply penetrating, as if he were evaluating my very soul.
More seconds ticked past. I bit my tongue, sensing that it was important I remain silent this time.
It was the right call. At last Michael said, “The remains of an angel never decay. That is why the fae burn their dead, even if they do not remember the origin of the custom. Power lingers in places and bones. Why do you think witches use them for their spells? I imagine if you combine Olorel’s remains with Thuridan’s significant power, it might be enough to create more than a tear. ”
“He wants to open a Door,” I whispered, my eyes wide with horror. “A Door between worlds.”
Michael’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes looked darker, somehow. “Not a Door. A Gate.”
We had to stop it. If the creatures of Hell poured into this world, humanity wouldn’t survive.
For a gut-wrenching, terrible moment, I pictured it.
An army of those things that had attacked me on the rooftop of Lucifer’s tower, killing and raping their way through every city, every continent.
Earth would burn, and everything good would be replaced by darkness.
I didn’t let panic get its claws into me.
This was the reason, I thought, frowning at the ground. This was why I’d ended up in Hell. I knew how Lucifer operated now, and I could use that knowledge to beat him, once and for all. I put myself in the devil’s shoes and that twisted, dark mind of his.
When Lucifer couldn’t succeed with seduction, he used magic.
Magic, I thought. The mark. Thuridan. The grave.
He was gathering ingredients. Lucifer was working another spell, just as he had for his crossroads deals.
Why else would he wait until a specific day to make his next move?
It was the anniversary of Olorel’s death.
Another ingredient, a specification necessary for the success of such complex magic. That’s how he planned to open the Gate.
More often than not, the solution was simple. What prevented a spell from working? Not having all the ingredients. If Lucifer didn’t have Thuridan, he wouldn’t be able to let his army in. His entire plan collapsed into dust.
I spun back to Michael. The angel had been standing there silently.
I was surprised he’d stayed at all, considering what we were up against. Another wave of fear crashed over me, bigger and harder than the last one.
I met Michael’s gaze, and my voice was sharper than I’d meant it to be as I asked, “Will you be here? If that Gate opens and the armies of Hell come out?”
I already knew his answer, even if his wistful smile didn’t already say everything. “That would be considered a very large interference, I’m afraid.”
“So I get free will, and you don’t?” I challenged.
“Fortuna …” Collith murmured, stepping forward. I shot him a sidelong glance and saw the wary look he gave Michael.
But the angel didn’t take offense at my question. “They didn’t make the rules. Those rules have always been in place, in order for any of this to exist. Even me,” he said simply.
“How about a riddle, then? Come on, I know you probably love those,” I wheedled.
But Michael’s body began to lighten, as if he were blowing away on the wind, and my words seemed to fall on deaf ears.
I knew he was leaving, going back to that world behind the pearl-crusted gates.
I raised my voice, and it had lost its playful edge, becoming something sharp and serrated instead.
“You started all this when you slit Persephone’s throat. Now it’s time to finish it.”
“I think you forgot to grab your sense of self-preservation when we left the house, dear,” Laurie murmured beside me.
I didn’t answer, because Michael’s body had begun to solidify again.
He gave me a long, hard look. Maybe the angel wasn’t as detached as he’d seemed, I thought, knowing he could probably hear every word going through my head.
But it was the truth. If Michael was actually about to be helpful in some way, then he must’ve felt some regret about what had happened at the Battle of Red Pearls.
“We don’t need to play games,” Michael said. “I have already proven that if you ask a question I can answer, I will.”
Frustration surged through me. But he wouldn’t tell me where the grave was, and it was the thing we needed to know most. It was our one shot at beating Lucifer—we could burn Olorel’s bones or use them as leverage.
I was about to turn to Collith and Laurie when another thought slipped into my mind. Suddenly I knew what I wanted to ask. As I faced Michael again, hot shame slid through my veins. But it wasn’t enough to stop me.
For him, I would get down on my hands and knees if I had to.
My voice was tight as I said, “Can he be saved? Ollie?”
Even now, there was no surprise in Michael’s eyes. But there was … something. If I didn’t know any better, I would say it was pity. “Can a wolf change its nature?” he asked.
Pain filled my throat. “By that logic, I can’t be saved, either,” I said tightly.