It was unlikely in the extreme he’d change my mind, for obvious reasons—for the first time, I had a clear picture of what I wanted for my future—but if it would take his mind off his fear of flying, then I’d listen. Unlike most of my breakups, if you could even call it that after one night, this parting had been bittersweet but amicable, and I considered him a friend. Even if he might try to kill me the next time I saw him. Gods, if there wasn’t even a small possibility I’d be reunited with Chance, wherever the hell he was? Then I’d let Kel do his job. But ultimately, that would be selfish, and he’d have to carry my death as he did Asherah’s.
“Barachiel wants you to rally soldiers to his banner. Your lineage makes you uniquely suited to persuading the people to rise up against demonkind.”
Okay, what the hell.
“You mean start a cult or something? The New Church of Solomon?”
Kel reflected visible surprise. “The archangel doesn’t call it a cult, of course, but how did you know the name?”
I puffed out a breath. The plane rumbled beneath my feet, as the attendants called out completion of cross-check. They passed multiple times, begging people to turn off their damned phones. Those things I noticed with half an eye, as I wrestled with the idea of predetermination. Kel set his hand on my forearm, and for a few terrifying seconds I glimpsed a wavering future, where I was polished and coiffed, addressing an enormous gathering of like-minded fanatics. They gazed at me with utter adoration, ready to fight or die, or donate all their worldly goods at my command. A hard shiver rolled through me. I starred in television specials, using my gift to prove that I was, indeed, touched by angels, and that I could carry their words to the masses.
No. A thousand times no.
Shaken, I jerked my arm away from him, cutting the live brain feed. I had no doubt that was exactly what Barachiel had shown Kel. If I signed on, I would have wealth, fame, and power beyond my wildest dreams. Now Ninlil had been evil, no question, but this offer reeked of infernal style, even if it came from an allegedly beatific source, so it made me wonder if maybe the demon queen had a point when she claimed the beings Kel knew as angels had started their lives in Sheol.
And I wasn’t even remotely tempted. I’d ruled a city. Power wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
Safe Harbor
I slept most of the ten-hour flight to Houston. A shady past had taught me the ability to snatch rest whenever I could. When I woke, I was leaning on Kel’s shoulder. He didn’t seem as if he’d moved in all that time. At least he wasn’t rigid with fear, as he had been the first time we took a plane together.
“We’re landing soon,” he said.
Sitting up, I ran a hand through my hair. If I had been thinking, I would’ve braided it to keep it from turning into a snarled mess. “Did I bother you?”
“Many things do. You’re not one of them.” There was something in his voice, a nearly imperceptible regret.
Did he wish he could’ve stayed? Everything would’ve been different if he had. But then, maybe it would’ve shaken out so that he died in Sheol instead, if he could even die. I thought he had when we were fighting the warlock in Laredo, so pale and still, but then he came back. The same when they’d killed him in Sheol. I gave him mouth to mouth, revived him. So maybe even if he’d sacrificed himself to open the gate, his body would still come back online. That didn’t entirely make sense, however. If it required a sacrifice, it needed to be a permanent one, right? Whatever. The past was past. Dwelling served no purpose.
“Did you sleep at all?” I didn’t expect trouble, but it seemed wrong for him to function at less than peak efficiency. In a world like ours, you just never knew.
“Some.”
“What’s going on? You’re even more terse than usual.”
“Barachiel contacted me, asking for a progress report. He seemed anxious to learn how you reacted to his master plan.”
A chill rippled through me. The plane dipped, hitting a pocket of turbulence that unsettled my stomach to match my mental state. “What did you tell him?”
“That I was showing you the perks of cooperation.”
“Did he go for that?”
Kel turned his face away. “I don’t think so. From this point, we’re living on borrowed time.”
Just like Booke.
In my heart, it felt like Armageddon. Kel was a reminder of beauty lost as well as a looming threat. He was the Sword of Damocles. It would kill a sliver of his soul if he ended my life on Barachiel’s orders. Hell, it would ruin my week too. Maybe it was wrong to make light of the situation, but I was full up on despair. If I lost humor, then I’d forfeit the ability to move forward.
“Noted. But, Kel . . . if it comes down to it, I won’t fight you.” There was no point. I’d seen how damned resilient he was. “Just . . . make it quick, all right?”
His words came out terse, clipped. “Stop. You’ve moved on. Humans do. But for me, this is a cycle repeating, a way for Barachiel to prove he owns me. Again.”
“So . . . my life is a power play. I thought he wanted me for the coming war.”
“It’s a double-edged sword. If you accede, he gets what he wants. And if you don’t, he still gets something out of it.”
“A reiteration of your forced loyalty and compliance.”
“Yes,” he said quietly.
“Sounds like we lose, either way.”
Before he could reply, the attendant interrupted with final descent announcements. We were to turn off all electronics, stow tray tables, and return seats to an upright position; oddly, the chatter sounded more courteous, delivered in a crisp British accent. While we went about disembarking, I mulled over my predicament. Talk about a rock and a hard place—this was worse than when I was caught between two rival drug lords. This time, my enemy was a powerful supernatural being, who might’ve started as a demon, but over the long millennia had convinced his followers—and maybe himself too—that he was an angel with divine guidance. In my experience, fanatics were more dangerous than other enemies because they believed so fervently in the cause.
I didn’t see how this could end well.
Downcast, I collected my things and followed Shan and Booke off the plane. She steadied him down the aisle to the jet bridge, where an airline worker had a chair waiting for him. This time, Booke didn’t protest its use. He collapsed into it gratefully; and I wondered if I was really doing the right thing. But then, this was all his choice. He could’ve gone to Paris, Milan, anywhere he wanted, and I’d have made it happen. For his own reasons, he had chosen people over places. He wanted to meet Chuch and Eva, so there was no way I’d deny his request. Who could blame him, really? They were pretty great.
Shortly after we got off the plane, Kel disappeared; he didn’t need documents. When I first encountered him, Chance and I got him arrested, thinking he was a murderer, and Barachiel made him serve part of the prison sentence as a punishment for getting caught by someone like me. When the archangel deemed his mortification complete, Kel came after me . . . but not in retaliation, as I thought at first. No, he had been serving as my guardian angel for longer than I knew. Which made me wonder . . . was he the reason nothing irredeemable happened to me during those awful months, where I had been between permanent residences? Once, I felt terrible shame with how many men I’d used for room and board, how I’d traded sex for shelter without real hope of a loving relationship. I’d since made peace with the memories, but maybe I should thank Kel because that dark time ended fairly well.