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A pleading voice pushed through the layers, slowly drawing Zach out of his dreams and back to the world of pain.
“Zach, please—open your eyes, please—” He did, and closed them against the light as pain bored into his head. “Damn it, Zach—”
“Misty?” His voice rasped out of his throat, and he flinched. It was another small pain, wrapped inside of the monster pain surging through him with every breath.
“Yeah. You have to listen, Zach. That thing’ll be back any second.”
“Where—” He inched his lids open, the light not as bad this time. He found the source—a flickering lantern sitting on a stack of boxes. Beyond it, Misty fought to free herself from the rope that held her to a stair railing. A familiar stair railing. He forced himself to focus, scanning the room. “Oh, God.”
They were in the basement of the Victorian where he first met Mom.
That explained some of the pain. The spell Mom and Annie had used to bind him was still embedded in the walls of the house, since the owners—the little girl who gave him the way in, and her mom—left Santa Luna not long after he had terrorized them.
“You know where we are?” Misty’s voice brought him back to the present.
“Yeah. Give me a minute.” He turned his head, trying to see how much trouble he was in. Thick rope wrapped his wrists and his bare ankles, tying him to what he guessed was an old dining table. The knots dug into his skin, so tightly he was already starting to lose feeling in his extremities. He wasn’t getting out of this anytime soon. “Misty—can you—”
“No.” She slumped against the railing, and anger sparked through him when he saw blood on her wrists. “I’m so sorry, Zach. He came to the door, and I didn’t even think about him being anything but a—”
“Jehovah’s Witness?”
She managed a smile. “By the time I figured out what he was, I was already being stuffed in the trunk of his car.” The lock in the door above her clicked. “Oh, God—”
“Misty. Look at me—we don’t have much time.” She obeyed, the fear in her eyes adding fuel to his anger. “No matter what happens, I need you to stay calm.”
She narrowed her eyes, the fear easing. “You have an idea.”
“I might.” One that would probably get them killed. At this point, he didn’t have a whole lot of options. The demon could not get Mom’s grace. “Look defeated.”
“That won’t be hard.”
She slumped against the railing as the door swung open, and the man Ariel had possessed climbed down the stairs.
“Awake at last.” The horrible sound of the demon edged his voice, though he had more control over the body now. “Unfortunately, I need you conscious, and willing.”
“Willing?”
“As she gave you her grace, so must you give it to me.”
Hope pushed back some of the pain. “And if I say no?”
“The female dies.”
Misty’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. Zach saw her hands shake as she clutched the railing.
“Then my answer is yes.”
***
Simon walked into chaos.
Claire and Annie had a man trapped in the corner. Even surrounded with white-gold and blue power, the dark stain of a demon was visible. Marcus stood in front of a terrified group of people. They were no longer possessed, but Simon could see the residue on them.
Thank God, Diana didn’t talk him into bringing her back with him.
He moved behind Claire, not touching her. She knew he was there.
“It’s Bartholomew. I need to take him down fast, Simon. Ariel has Zach.”
Dread gripped him. He forced it back, and moved to her side, pulling up the simplest banishing in his mental inventory.
“Get yourself and Annie back,” he said.
“Simon—”
“You need to be out of the path of the banishing, Claire. I don’t want you caught up in it.”
“Right. Annie—move back with me.”
“Hell, no—I’m not letting the demon bastard—oh, hey, Simon.” She flashed him a wicked smile. “Come to send our unwanted guest home?”
“Planning on it, as soon as you get out of my way.”
“Got it.” She grabbed Claire’s wrist, and Simon saw the blood staining her arm. A lot of blood. “I’ll yell at you later for the rude.”
“I look forward to it.” He braced himself, silently warned Elias to stay the hell out of it, and moved forward, speaking the banishing.
“Demons that have come in my home, I do not stand alone.
I banish you back to whence you came, I am the protector, the saving light, and your ultimate bane.”
The demon shrieked and clawed at the wall, as if he could escape through it. Simon repeated it, moving closer, feeling Elias’ power surge through him.
He said it a third time, shouting over the demon’s screams. With a final, furious screech, the demon disappeared.
Simon swayed as Elias let him go.
“Whoa, hero. I’ve got you.” Annie helped him to one of the chairs at the tarot table, and he lowered himself, shaking. “Stay here. I’ll get some water.”
He closed his eyes. You didn’t tell me Bartholomew was so strong.
“I hardly knew him.” A sniff had Simon smiling. “He was as insignificant as a—”
“Got it.”
“Talking to your other half?” Annie handed him the water and sank into the other chair, cradling her left arm. Claire must have bandaged it while he played exorcist. God, his head felt like it was going to explode.
“Something like that.”
“Simon.” Claire stood next to him, almost as bloody as Annie. “Are you able to find Zach?”
“You know it was Ariel,” he said.
“I saw him take Zach myself.”
“He used Bartholomew’s ambush to cover himself,” Annie said. “Like the coward he is.” She pushed to her feet, flinching when her injured arm moved.
“I know you have a connection to him.” Claire touched his wrist. Up close, he saw the exhaustion and the fear she fought to keep from her voice. “Can you find him?”
“The demon’s presence is going to make it hard.” Simon gripped the amethyst, ready for Elias’ rage.
“The bastard wants to go home. Allow me to send him to the home he deserves.”
“After Zach is safe,” he muttered. “Now ease up, let me do this.”
“Elias?” Claire studied him, clearly intrigued.
“Yeah. He has some serious hate for Ariel.”
Once Elias backed off, Simon cleared his mind, and searched for the heat, the light that was Zach. He almost reeled in shock when he found it.
“Simon?” Claire’s hands gripped his arm, keeping him upright. “What is it?”
“I found him. You’re not going to believe where he is.”
***
“Zach, no!” Misty yanked at the rope trapping her. “Don’t you dare—”
“Too late, my pretty mortal. He said yes.”
Zach braced himself. He had to wait for just the right moment—and even then, this might not even work.
Ariel moved to his right side, long, narrow fingers shaking as they hovered over his right wrist. “I never thought—when I learned of this, after escaping Azazel and the plans he had for me, I never thought it would actually be true. I am going home.”
Swallowing, Zach watched his hands move closer. The tattoo started throbbing, blue white light outlining the flaming sword, the outstretched wings.
Now.
“I need,” he whispered. Ariel leaned in, his gaze intent, and Zach knew he had him. “I need to find your weakness.”
Agony clawed him. The answer flared behind his eyes, so simple, so elegant. Ariel’s weakness was the grace.
Zach decided to give it to him.
He focused every bit of strength he had left on the tattoo—and screamed as agony scorched him. Pure white light poured out of his wrist, a wall of power that slammed into Ariel. Zach bowed off the table, the scars on his back on fire, like his wings had been ripped away again. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, could only feel.
His tattoo pulsed, a living thing, pushing every bit of Mom’s grace out. Through his own agony, he heard the demon’s screams, edged with terror. Zach’s agony built hot and fast until he couldn’t take another second—then with a final pulse it let him go.
A surge of power swept through him. He yanked at his wrists, and the rope broke like it was made of paper. Free of both the pain and his bonds, he sat, searching for Misty. She was pressed against the railing, staring at Ariel. The power of Mom’s grace had yanked him out of the man he had possessed, and he cowered, his dark skin smoking, his true form revealed.
Without thinking, Zach started whispering, ancient words that he knew as well as the beat of his heart. The words of banishing.
Ariel shrieked, clawing at the floor. The banishing trapped him more securely than the strongest chain. Every word hammered at him until he couldn’t move. Zach shouted the final words, and with a scream of despair, Ariel sank into the floor, leaving nothing but a black mark on the cement.
“Misty—”
Zach tore the rope off his ankles and jumped off the table, running over to free her. She hadn’t made a sound, not since he threw himself at his gift. He crouched next to her and gently untied the rope, not wanting to add to her pain.
“Zach,” she whispered. “Look in the mirror.”
He stared at her, then stood and turned to face the huge mirror propped in the corner. His heart skipped at the reflection. His reflection. Pure white wings spread out behind him, so familiar he ached at the sight. They were an illusion—they had to be.
But he could feel them, his back muscles bunching to take the weight, to stretch them until they filled the space behind him. He wrapped one wing around his arm, touched the velvet soft feathers. Even as he recognized that they were real, they began to fade.
“No,” he whispered.
He was losing them, losing himself, again. He wrapped both wings around him and lowered his head, remembering their strength, remembering who he was, and why he let them go. The light burning out of his tattoo faded with the wings, taking his strength with it.
“Zach—” Misty caught him when he swayed, her arms almost as warm and strong as his wings. “Stay with me, Zach. Damn it—don’t you dare leave me now, not after we beat the devil.”
“Wouldn’t—think of it.” He focused, and managed to open his eyes. She leaned over him, so beautiful, so real. This was his life now, what he had sacrificed immortality to find. “Love you...”
“I love you back, golden boy. Now stay with me. Hold my hand, Zach.” She laced their fingers together, and he tried to tighten his grip. “Zach, please—God, please, I can’t lose him now. Please—don’t take him yet. He’s just getting started. Please—”
Her low, sweet voice soothed him, followed him into the welcome darkness.