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It takes Chief Gallagher a lot of convincing before he agrees not to arrest me on the spot. The fact that Michael adds to the conversation as a proponent to having me on the battlefield with him helps more than my brother’s rationale.
When Chief Gallagher finally lays his pistol on the counter, he rubs his face. “You really know how to screw up someone’s night.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah, well it’s only going to get worse,” I say, and glance at his hands. The wedding ring sobers me up. “Do you need to call anyone to tell them to get out of town before hellfire rains on us?”
He glances up at me and sighs, shaking his head before his gaze lands the same place I am looking. “Cancer got her,” he says, and both CJ and I trade a glance. “How safe is that bunker of yours?” he asks CJ.
“As safe as we could make it. In layman’s terms, it could withstand a missile,” he answers and Gallagher gives him a slow nod, both recalling vividly what a missile did to this very same property over a decade ago.
Chief Gallagher slips out his cell phone and climbs to his feet. “I need to let the police in New York know you have a concrete alibi and we believe the video was tampered with.”
I give him a nod of thanks and he steps into the family room with the phone to his ear.
“Are you serious about the panic room?” I ask, because I remember the amount of rubble that missile made.
He meets my gaze. “I think the only thing that could destroy it is angel fire.” There is clear warning in his tone that makes me inhale.
“Good to know,” I say because who the hell knows what will happen when I confront Lucifer.
“You cannot lose control like you did at Paradise Cove,” Michael says from his perch on the breakfast bar. He is nursing a black coffee like it’s liquid gold.
“I’ll do my best.”
The cup slams onto the counter and his glare follows. “You will have to do better than that, because lately your best has been sorely lacking.”
“Give him a break. He didn’t have to go off and close the portals, but he did,” CJ says coming to my defense.
Michael shoots him an equally damning stare. “I’m just laying it out for you. You’ve done some marginally redeeming things since your downfall, but I’m afraid it isn’t enough.”
“You know, I really don’t give a shit whether I get into heaven or not. All I care about is making sure the rest of my family remains untouched. If I make it through the night, you and I can figure out a way to settle up.” I stare Michael down, tired of his condescendence.
“Are you challenging me, boy?”
“You bet your ass,” I reply, and he is on his feet in a blink.
CJ blocks him from coming around the island.
“Chill, okay? I’ve got bigger things to worry about than playing referee.” The edge in his voice catches both of us and I put my hands up.
“Sorry, that was out of line,” I say, trying to drop the tension a notch or two.
Michael’s shoulders relax and his hands unclench before he gives me a curt nod.
“Can you bring some drinks and snacks downstairs?” CJ asks as he reaches for a tray over the refrigerator. “The natives are getting restless.”
“Sure.” I keep my initial response to myself. “Do they have facilities behind the vault door?” I’m half kidding, but when CJ nods, I raise a brow.
“They even have a mini-refrigerator as well as a microwave. We also put in a television and DVD player.”
“And the only way in or out is through the house?”
When he hesitates, a chill tickles my neck. He opens his mouth and I shake my head focusing on the Chief’s thoughts as opposed to CJ’s. If I have that kind of information and Lucifer somehow gets hold of me, the entire plan to protect CJ’s girls will fail.
“I don’t want to know. Lock it down.”
Instead of responding, CJ busies himself with preparing a tray of goodies for everyone. When he is done, he hands me the overflowing tray and sends me downstairs. Sam follows and bounds forward with her tail wagging at that sight of Bridget and Valerie standing by the couch.
“Is everything okay?” Bridget asks.
I look between the two of them and take a long slow breath.
“Yeah. Chief Gallagher has agreed to not haul my ass in until after the shit goes down with Lucifer.” I place the tray on the coffee table.
“Why would he take you in? You have an alibi for what happened earlier.”
“I have an alibi for that, but not for what happened to Damian.”
Bridget’s brow creased.
“I showed him everything that’s happened since we met Damian and Naomi.” I shrug. “So, I might not be locked up for what happened in New York, but what I showed him could potentially be used as a full confession, and if he puts me in front of a microphone and asks the right questions, I could be looking at life in prison.”
“You were not of sound mind,” Bridget says softly.
I sigh and meet her gaze. “We’ll cross that bridge if we get through tonight, okay?”
Valerie does not weigh in, and I glance in her direction. She drops her gaze, keeping her mind closed to me.
“Thanks for bringing the snacks,” she says, and picks up the tray.
I glance around and can’t recognize where the door to the bunker is but neither Valerie nor Bridget go to leave.
“Where did you put my bag?” Bridget asks.
“It’s up in the bedroom closet. Why?” I already know the answer, her thoughts magnify the helplessness she feels, and that bag would give her a sense of security that playing a sitting duck doesn’t.
“I want it,” she says, and heads towards the stairs.
I give Valerie a tight smile and turn to follow Bridget.
“Stay safe, Tom,” Valerie says.
I pause at the wall. “I’ll keep CJ safe,” I reply glancing over my shoulder. “I promise,” I add, and some of the worry lines carved in her face soften.
By the time I reach the guest bedroom, Bridget is at the opening to the closet. I reach past her and grab the duffel bag.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper and she turns towards me.
“Are you trying to sabotage any possible future we might have?”
I stare into her angry features, not knowing how to respond. Anything I say right now will set her off, and I am holding a bag full of weapons that could be used to make me regret the day I gave her a job.
When her lips thin and her hands find her waist, I shake my head.
“No, but the Chief needed to know what is coming. Otherwise he would have hauled me down to the station for who knows how long, which would have left everyone here vulnerable.”
“Stop being so fucking honest, will you?”
Laughter chokes me, and she smiles at my snort.
“I’m serious.”
“You want me to lie?”
“Yes. Well. No. You know what I mean,” she says, and reaches for the bag.
As painfully aware as I am of time passing, I can’t help but pursue this line of thought.
“I have no clue what you mean,” I say, holding the bag just outside of her reach.
“Being honest is one thing, but baring your soul is another. Stop doing that with strangers.”
I raise my eyebrows, surprised at the outburst. “You’re upset because I shared my memories?”
She chews on her lip, staring at me, and finally nods.
“Why?”
“Because I thought I was special, but I guess I’m not.” She glances at the floor.
I sigh, tilting my head to the side to capture her gaze, when she looks up at me, I say, “You are special.”
She waves at the door with a huff.
“Memories and the emotional punch that goes with them are two separate things. You’ve seen both, even the deeper baggage that comes along with all the shit I’ve experienced. I have ever only shared that piece of me with you. Raven never saw that part of me, and neither has CJ. So, you’d better believe you’re special.”
The way her shoulders fall from the tight set of tension to almost relaxed releases some of the tightness in my stomach. Her cheeks flush and she starts that nervous shuffle of weight from one side to the other and back. When she reaches for the bag again, I pull it out of reach because I am enjoying seeing her humbled.
“Give me that,” she hisses, and stomps her foot.
A genuine smile forms on my lips at her mini-hissy fit. Her hazel eyes flash with aggravation and an underlying humor that tugs at the edges of her frown.
“Give me a kiss and I’ll give you the bag.”
She balks, and I cock my head, challenging her. I know it’s childish, but right now, I need as much to lighten the knot in the center of my chest as I can get, and teasing Bridget is providing me with a few moments of comic relief.
“Thomas Patrick!” she says, in nothing more than a whisper.
“Bridget Elizabeth!” I use the same exasperated tones she used.
Her fight not to smile fails and she pushes me against the wall, still trying to snag the handle of the bag. With a frustrated growl, she plants her lips on mine. It was meant to be a quick bribe to get the bag, but the spark between us ignites. My mouth opens, as does hers, and I thread my free hand into her hair, gently holding her in place as the kiss sweetens with our leisurely tongue dance. My arm holding the bag lowers and Bridget’s hand lands on mine and she deepens the kiss, increasing the intensity.
A loud bang separates us. I stare at her with my heart pounding in my throat and I am sure my eyes are just as wide as hers. Outside the front window, smoke rises into view and I hand her the bag.
“Go,” I say and she doesn’t hesitate until we are at the top of the stairs.
“You’d better not get yourself killed,” she says.
I give her a strained smile. “I love you, too. Now go.”
I slide to a stop in the family room, making sure Bridget has safely disappeared down the basement steps before I turn to CJ, Michael, and Chief Gallagher, looking out the front window.
“We can’t do this inside,” I say as a certainty grips me. The entire house will implode if we choose this as our battleground. I can see enough damage outside already. The gate hangs open, adorned with twisted metal from whatever was used to blow it up.
I spin and tear outside with Sam at my heels and the first thing I notice is the stench of burning propane. I step far enough into the yard to see the Long Sands shoreline, and my eyes close against the bright flickering of flame peppered throughout the horizon.
April’s precognition of York burning was as accurate as it gets, and I shiver, glancing at the house just as a flow of demons come from both sides of the yard. Behind them saunters Lucifer still wearing my image, including that cocky smile that usually melts women’s hearts.
Sam positions herself right in front of me and every hair on her body stands, making her look just as vicious as her growl.
CJ and Michael step out of the house and stop. Their gaze jumps from me to Lucifer and back. I clench my teeth at Lucifer’s perfect mimicry of my shaking fear. He is convincing enough that even CJ has a moment of pause. The hellhound adopting Sam’s exact posture does not help.
Before I can signal CJ in some way, the demon horde Lucifer brought launches their attack. It isn’t until I step into the fight that Michael heads for Lucifer, letting CJ and me take care of the demons.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a blur heading for Sam. I don’t have a chance to react and her yelp as the hellhound’s teeth dig in, drives home desperation. My attempt at annihilating the demons with my mind only serves to push them off balance instead of turning them to dust.
When the first demon hits, I’m slammed into the ground with the force of his tackle. Air explodes from my lungs and I roll, falling back on my Jujitsu skills to throw the demon off. I no sooner get to my feet than two more attack, but this time I am ready, using everything our father and Steve taught us in self-defense.
The growling yanks my attention to the dogfight between us and I freeze at the image of the hellhound’s jaws around Sam’s throat. Her frantic eyes find mine as she tries to break the grip, her paws rip at the hound’s chest, but it’s no use.
“No!” my cry sends a rumble through the ground like an earthquake, but I hold onto the angel fire burning my muscles. It’s too raw and powerful, and uncontrollable for me to let it loose.
The hellhound shakes Sam like a rag doll and the sharp crack comes at the same moment I’m blindsided. From my stunned position on the ground, I see my loving, and ever faithful companion go limp. The loss hits like a lead weight, especially when her spirit peels from her dead body.
I break free from the demon pounding on me, and charge, diving and tackling the hellhound. A force I can’t control races through my blood, painting my vision red. I wrap my arm around the beast’s throat and squeeze, pulling its muzzle into the air in the process. It drops Sam, but the damned thing keeps struggling, trying to break my hold. I pull with everything I have, bending its head back and twisting until its neck snaps, but that isn’t good enough to satisfy the building rage. I keep twisting until the head tears clean off.
Hot hellhound blood saturates my shirt and jeans and I turn, pitching the head at Lucifer with a guttural roar. Instead of falling into defense mode, I go on the attack, pulling one of the demons out of the circle attacking CJ. Every muscle in my body is charged with fury and I spin, throwing the bastard into the two others charging towards me.
Again, I try to snuff them out with my mind, but all it does is make them stumble back a few steps.
The report of a gun makes me jump and I glance over my shoulder at the house. Butch Gallagher stands with his legs a little wider than hip distance apart and his gun trained on the melee around him. The second report echoes and another demon attacking CJ falls.
Before I can turn back towards those advancing on me, the Chief is launched backwards into the house by an invisible force. The crashing of furniture gives me a hint at the strength with which he was thrown, and I snap my gaze towards Lucifer. He has Michael in a muggers hold, but before I can help, a couple of demons hit at once.
I catch a glimpse of CJ’s split lip and bruised cheek as I break free and roll away from the demons. My roll isn’t fast enough, and a boot connects with my lower back. Pain radiates from my kidney, but I force it out of my mind, climbing to my feet and throwing a punch of my own.
Air whistles and a breeze caresses my cheek. I spin in time to see an arrow embedded through the eye of the demon behind me, and he falls. Surprise rakes its nails down my back and I turn towards the house as another arrow sails true, taking down one of the demons attacking my brother.
Bridget looks like a warrior princess in her tank top and jeans, with her hair pulled back. The rage in her features matches what pounds my insides, and when her aim turns towards Lucifer, the arrow falters at the image of me grappling with Michael. In that moment, a demon attacks her, and I sprint, avoiding another hit in the process.
Bridget is driven through the open door and I can feel the angel fire surfacing along with the unbridled rage. A flash of metal flies through the air inside the house and the demon falls. I catch a glimpse of Valerie crawling from behind the counter and she gives me a thumbs up to tell me Bridget will be okay.
An arm wraps around my neck, pulling me away from the house and spinning me in front of another demon. The bastard smiles and his fist connects with my stomach, driving all the air out. I reach up and grab the arm holding me in place before the second hit lands. With a twist of my body and a hip roll, the demon holding me in place lands between us. I grab his head and twist with all the viciousness I can muster and his neck snaps.
That leaves one demon between me and the group attacking CJ. Michael and Lucifer are still sparring as if this is a demonstration instead of a fight to the death. Irritation burns and I refocus on the circling demon.
“Why the hell can’t I just toast your ass,” I hiss through clenched teeth.
The demon smiles. “Angel blood,” he says with a mouth full of crooked teeth. His voice reminds me of twisting metal and a chill slides down my spine. If angel blood hypes them up like a group of druggies on PCP, then I can’t imagine how strong Lucifer is.
I draw in a breath, trying to center myself.
“Duck,” Valerie’s voice rings out.
I follow her order, expecting her knife to sail over me, but I’m not the only one who ducks, and when the shot rings over the back yard, I follow it, watching as it slices through CJ’s shoulder, catapulting him over the rock wall.
Valerie’s wail and two more rounds echo before metal clatters on concrete. Stunned into inaction, I glance over my shoulder in time to see her hair streaming out of sight towards the basement. I have a second to wonder where that extra escape route is before I am tackled by the remaining three demons.
Dozens of punches land before I can break free. I hold my arm against my pounding ribcage and cautiously move away towards the rock wall. The fact I can’t feel CJ in my head brings a newly formed panic to my bones, and I glance in the direction of Lucifer and Michael in time to see the final struggle.
Michael sways on his feet, hardly able to lift his arms in defense. Lucifer’s next punch spins Michael and he lands on his hands and knees facing me.
Lucifer steps behind him and grabs a handful of his hair, pulling him back so I can see Michael’s bruised face. His eyes lock on mine. Horror and defeat echo in his irises as Lucifer pulls out a knife. Lucifer waits with the blade on Michael’s throat until I look up at his maniacal grin.
His eyes sparkle with bloodlust as the knife rakes across Michael’s throat, slicing deep enough for blood to fly across the lawn in pulsing spurts. My stomach rolls as Lucifer grips his brother’s head and twists it, decapitating Michael in one swift motion.
He rolls the head in my direction and points at me.
“Your turn,” he growls as two of the demons grab my arms.
I spin, wrenching my wrist out of one demon’s grip and land a throat punch with the momentum on the other. I mimic Lucifer and twist the fucker’s head, snapping his neck before the two remaining demons attack.
An itch tickles my mind and I tap into my energy reserves, fending off as many punches as I can until I spin right into Lucifer’s reach. His punch lifts me right off the ground, and the pain flares in my rib cage. I land on my knees and roll away before he can do the same thing he did to Michael.
CJ, if you’re out there, I need you! I send the thought along with every ounce of panic pulsing in my veins.
I climb to my feet, taking stock as to where my attackers are. Keeping Lucifer in front of me, I slowly limp to my right, trying to keep my distance. I need to win. If I don’t, my family will be tortured and killed until all that are left are the ones who can provide Lucifer his army of dark trinities.
I need my odds to increase, and I sense one of the demons approaching behind me. I still have reserves left and when the crunch of the grass is close enough, I jump into a spin kick. My foot catches his jaw with enough force to snap his head almost all the way around and the satisfying crunch of bone follows. I land, wincing as pain radiates from my ankle all the way up my leg. Not only did I kill the demon, but I broke my ankle in the process.
Fucking fantastic. I take a limping step and almost crumble, catching myself before I fall. The other demon drives in and the bottom of his boot slams into the calf of my good leg, just below the knee.
Ripping pain follows me to the ground and I roll, grabbing my knee as the howl escapes my lips. Awareness of a follow up kick coming in my direction splits through the pain and I roll out of the way, sweeping my leg, and dropping him to the ground. I’m not quite sure how I pull it off, but as the demon falls, he clocks his head on the edge of one of the rock pillars.
He doesn’t get up and I force myself onto my feet because I am dead if I remain on the ground. My torn knee barely holds me, and I stumble closer to the house.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Lucifer’s growl precedes the yank of my hair and I fall backwards into him. His hand wraps around my neck, tightening enough for the airflow to shut down to a small wheeze.
“I promised you pain,” he hisses in my ear.
I don’t see it coming, but the searing pain across my abdomen reminds me of what that killer in Georgia used to do. My hands drop from the arm holding my throat to the hot pain gripping my stomach. Blood and entrails spill over my fingers and I gasp, trying to stuff my insides back where they belong. With his hand still clasped around my neck, holding me upright, he steps in front of me.
“That is only the beginning. I have a very special place for you in hell, and my staff has instructions to make your suffering more horrific than anything ever seen before.” He smiles and his hand forms that familiar claw. “Now give me my fucking grace,” he snarls.
His fingernails pierce my chest and I bellow in pain, even with the tight grip he has on my throat.
I’m coming, hold on! CJ’s groggy and pain-filled voice fills my head.
I reach up, grabbing Lucifer’s wrist, trying to stop his progression, but the blood makes my grip slick and I cannot stop him. My heart squeezes under the pressure.
The whistle of air breaks my pain and an arrow pierces Lucifer’s throat, shocking him enough to twist towards the house. His grip on my throat loosens and gravity does the rest. His claw dislodges from my chest as the second arrow pierces his chest and I land on the lawn on my back.
My gaze drops to the house as well and Bridget sets up another arrow. Lucifer swats his hand as if he is knocking a gnat out of his face and Bridget flies backwards, right through the sliding glass door. The shattering glass cracks through the silence and I grasp onto that last straw of anger.
I pool the power and shoot out what little angel fire I have left. All it does is pitch Lucifer ten feet onto his back. My failure magnifies as he rises to his feet, yanks the arrows out of his skin and then wipes himself off as if all he did was fall into a pile of dirt.
I shiver at the cold settling over me. My heart hurts, as does every other inch of my body. Heat fills my eyes and I say a small prayer asking God to deliver whatever CJ needs to beat this bastard. A buzz fills my ears and the soft lick of Sam’s tongue bathes my face. I look into her soft brown eyes and reach to pet her silky fur. My bloody hand touches air and falls back over my chest. Over my heart in the last protective action I can muster.
Lucifer is now in a dark haze and he steps in my direction, but his head snaps to the right. White heat singes the lawn around me and my battered brother launches at Lucifer. His golden wings are in full view, along with his blindingly scorching aura. The righteous fury emanating from him gives me a sliver of hope.
My body numbs and the thump of my heart slows as I watch the last battle unfold.
He has a knife. I send the thought just as Lucifer swipes it at CJ, but my brother parries like a pro, and with a quick maneuver, he disarms Lucifer. CJ controls his anger, using every bit of it to fuel his defense. When he turns the table and goes on the offence, his blows crack bone and split skin, until Lucifer falls to a knee.
That is the opening CJ has been waiting for and he grabs Lucifer’s head, twisting with all the power of heaven behind him. Not only does angel fire add to his strength, it serves as purification, rolling across the blood drenched yard in a blinding light the moment he severs Lucifer’s head.
The heat engulfs me, drowning out the screams of Bridget and my brother. My body feels light, as if it is rising off the ground, but my upwards trajectory halts as Bridget reaches out, grabbing a handful of my shirt.
I meet her gaze and she yanks me down, trying to press me back inside my broken body.
“You are not dying on me,” she says and Valerie blocks my view of her.
Warm lips touch my forehead and agony sears my soul. Blinding pain, flashes of light, and then it is all extinguished into the black.
Darkness drags me down, whether I want it to or not.