None of us know who “him” is and the Immortals shift defensively. I know that if they could use their abilities, Agis would have flown out of here, and Armin would have used his telekinesis to shatter this place. From the tight set of Marshal’s jaw, I know it’s killing him that he can’t talk us out of here. We’re stuck, stunned, no one able to move as Luke moves fluidly, the katana unsheathed with one hand and wielded by the other. I close my eyes as the blade swings and flinch when I hear the unmistakable thud of a head hitting the stone floor over the pounding of my heart.
I force my eyes open, fear heightened in every nerve, and see Roland’s head inches from my feet.
“Don’t worry,” Lucifer says, “you’re next and when you fall, the final barriers into your realm will fall, and my domination will prevail. I’ll do it with my son by my side, our power unparalleled.”
“Luke,” I say, “No. Please.”
He has to feel something, right? His blue eyes seem darker by the moment. He grips the blade while blood drips from the edge. The man I knew, that I loved—he’s lost—if I ever had him.
Lu
cifer stands, his body framed by the elaborate throne. “The first thing we’ll do is find the Guardians, who dared ignore their summons to the Academy. There’s no escaping this fight. I’ll rip that baby from the Morrigan’s belly and massacre each and every one of those foul shifters. They can join you in limbo for eternity. Once you’re gone, Hell will consume your earth and I will be King to more than just this realm, but to all of them.”
Despite my pride and anger, I cast a plea toward Luke. He refuses to meet my eyes. His hands are now coated in Roland’s blood, his jaw lifted and sure. He looks regal, right at home by his father’s side.
Lucifer waves his hand and his son walks forward, holding Miya’s katana as if it was his own.
“You fell for it,” I say through clenched teeth, “you did exactly what your father wanted. He’s sacrificed you, and you don’t even see it. You’re his pawn. His toy. Do you really think he’ll give you power? Or is he just too scared to fight me and the Immortals himself.” Something flickers in his eyes; anger? Hate? Fear? I push on. “You may get one of us—maybe two—but before we’re all dead you will be, too. You heard him, he said you ‘exceeded’ his expectations. He didn’t think you could do it. I doubt he does now, either.”
“Silence!” Luke roars, his face contorting into something feral and demonic. For the first time, I see the devil in him and a chill runs down my spine.
“Kill the bitch,” Lucifer mutters, but I see the fear in his eyes. He knows I’m right. Luke will not survive once he goes up against Agis and Armin. He will not survive me. “Kill her first.”
Luke clenches his fists, rage pulsing off his body. The walls tremble, shaking from an invisible force. Lucifer tilts his head, unsure as the rest of us about what’s about to happen. The katana swings through the air, light flashing off the blade that hits my eye, blinding me. I brace myself for the cut, the pain, the numbness of death. It doesn’t come, instead I feel the glow of warmth—not the heat of Hell. Marshal flinches next to me, his hand reaching out for mine. Elizabet cries and buries her head. The blast is all powerful, all consuming, and it fills my belly with the warm spread of contentment. I felt it the night before. I feel it now as everyone is frozen in place. Everyone, except Luke, who swings the blade, splattering Roland’s blood across the floor, and stabs it through his father’s heart.
The vibration grows, the walls of Lucifer’s court crumbling like the Academy did when we ran toward the temple. The ground shakes, like we’re caught in an earthquake. The magic binds that held us fall away and I pull away from Marshal, rushing toward Luke. Before I can reach him, he looks down at us from his father’s throne, Lucifer’s body hunched over with a pool of dark blood spreading from his chest and says, “I’m sorry,” before holding up his hand and blasting us straight out of hell.
“I’m sorry.”
I wake, the glare of light in my eyes. I hold up my hand and struggle to a sitting position, trying to muster the energy to fight, to figure out why Luke is apologizing for killing his father.
But there is no fight.
No courtroom.
No Hell.
There’s just blue sky and a warm sun. Soft, green grass under my ass and birds chirping nearby.
Birds.
Chirping.
I look around and see my men, my allies, my lovers sprawled on the grass, as dazed as I am. Next to me, Elizabeth rubs her eyes. Beyond her, Darius shakes his head.
“What the hell?” a panicked voice shouts in the distance.
My heart skips when I hear it. The mere sound shaking me from my stupor. When I see her, I can’t hold onto the sob ripping through my chest. Morgan walks out, Gods no, she waddles out of the Nead, hand clasped over her mouth. Shadowy, imposing figures follow her out of the house and into the yard. The Guardians; Clinton, Sam, Bunny, Damien, and Dylan. They rush out and into the yard, reaching out to help. But that’s not all, there’s someone else; Miya.
He’s healed and better.
He’s so very handsome and alive.
“Is it over?” Morgan asks, standing over me, her belly eclipsing the sun. Dylan offers me his hand and lifts me easily off the ground.
“I don’t know,” I admit. I look to everyone else. They seem as confused as I feel. “We were in the sixth circle, Luke…he betrayed us but—”
“He didn’t,” Elizabeth says, brushing off her butt. “He killed his father.”