Page 206 of Nightshade

“Oh, come now, old friend. There is one saving grace in all of this.”

“And what is that?”

“Drystan may still want to kill you. More than anything. And, if that’s the case, he may use the girl to seek you out.”

I didn’t doubt his hatred. But he wasn’t stupid, either. Coming after me would be detrimental to his life. “You loved him. Why?”

“I don’t know. Why are we drawn to some and not others? I’d always found him deliciously obedient. Unlike you.”

“I refused to be manipulated by a perverted old man. And I suppose it was you who arranged for Virgil’s death.”

“Yes. I sent Tartys. I knew you couldn’t resist. And you did not disappoint.”

I shot to my feet, holding the blade at his throat once more. “I could easily send you after him.”

Barchiel carefully set the glass of liquor down on the table, never taking his eyes off me. “I will impart one small gift in exchange for your mercy.”

“It better be worth having to look upon your face for an eternity.”

“There is a way back to the earthly realm. But it requires one rather modest sacrifice.”

“And what is that?” I lifted the blade higher, watching his gullet bob against the steel that would slice his throat open like butter.

“Your wings.”

62

Farryn

“He should’ve killed you,” I spat, as Drystan prodded me with his gun, guiding me down a stairwell toward what looked like the basement of the old Catholic church.

Behind us followed three other men, in white robes that bore the Pentacrux symbol stitched in gold. Hoods covered their faces, so it was hard to tell if they were human, or not, but none of the three had portrayed an ounce of sympathy, when he’d dragged my screaming, kicking body into the church. Instead, they moved like the typical acolytes in horror movies--slow, quiet, and purposeful. One carried a sword. Another held one of those pronged flails, like something out of a medieval reenactment.

“Yes. He surely should’ve killed me. He would’ve been banished early on, and you would’ve died, regardless.”

“And my father?”

At the landing, he urged me down another flight. Deeper into the belly of the church.

“Color me surprised to discover that he was the only mortal who could break the code to bring me back from Ex Nihilo. It was fate, wasn’t it? All these years, Jericho thought you were fated to be with him. Your fate was with me, though. Here. Now.”

That repulsive thought curled through me like worms under my skin. “How? How did my father bring you back?”

“Not many are willing to spend an entire lifetime staring at little symbols that mean essentially nothing to you mortals. But your father? The man was obsessed with that little marking on your arm, wasn’t he? He couldn’t leave it alone. And when your mother died, it was all he could think about.”

My mother.

I’d never fully accepted that her death was merely some freak accident, and his words brought to mind a sickening thought. “The bolt of lightning that hit the car. Was it you who killed my mother?”

The stairwell finally hit a long corridor, where fluorescent lights flickered overhead. Still holding the gun to my back, Drystan trailed after me, the three men after him, as I kept on with no idea where he wanted me to go.

“No. I was still trapped in Ex Nihilo when all that happened. The death of your mother was your father’s punishment.” At the sound of his sigh, I happened to glance back, just as he pointed skyward. “The higher powers don’t particularly like you mortals fooling around with things you don’t truly understand.”

“Higher powers? You’re saying the angels took my mother?”

“Yes, she was a minor consequence of his brilliance.”

Hands balled tightly at my sides, I had to swallow back the anger, remembering that he was the stronger one who could squash me like a flea, if he wanted. Even if the wounds of her death had long since healed, an ache stabbed my chest. That she was murdered was a fate worse than the divine explanations my father had concocted over the years.