The air hissed from him.
Without her, he would cease. End. Become nothing.
Just as his father had become nothing without his mother.
Leaving the paved streets, he crossed the dark, sweeping lawns of a park and halted on the shores of the massive lake bordering the city. He braced himself against the biting buffet of the November wind, its chill against his skin nothing compared to the one at his core. In his head, Alex’s voice settled into the same, endless rhythm as the waves crashing onto the rocks. “There is no us. Not anymore. We’re done, Seth . . . We’re done . . .”
He closed his eyes. Anguish warred with fury in his chest. All he had done for her, all he had given of himself, and this—this was how she repaid him.
“We’re done . . .”
“Now are you ready to listen?” a familiar voice asked.
Seth’s eyes opened onto the dark stretch of water before him. At the corner of his vision, a shadow moved, barely discernible in the night. He considered the question. Alex would be horrified to know he’d been speaking with one of the Fallen, but he’d tried to do things her way. To follow her lead. Hell, even to see what it was about her fellow mortals that inspired such loyalty in her. And now he stood alone in the cold, without her, crumbling from the inside out.
“You said I wouldn’t have to give her up if I took back my powers.”
The shadow beside him inclined its head.
With careful precision, Seth detached himself from any remaining doubt. Any lingering conscience. He’d tried it Alex’s way. Now it was his turn.
“I’m listening,” he said.
Chapter 66
Mika’el was in his office when the seismic wave hit Heaven. A heartbeat later, before it had trembled to a finish, he was at the top of the stairs overlooking the great library. His gaze swept the toppled shelves, the books strewn across the stone floor, and the two dozen angels standing amid the chaos, staring at one another in stunned silence.
Bloody Hell. Only two events could cause such an effect in Heaven. Either Seth had taken back his powers or—
Cold gripped his gut, and he had to force himself to finish the thought. Either Seth had taken back his powers or the One had lost her grip on them. He had to find out which. Now. But before he could swing away from the banister, the massive oak doors on the far side of the hall crashed open. A Virtue in full armor burst through, white wings spread wide. She cast a frantic look around the room and stopped in her tracks when she saw him.
“The Hellfire,” she gasped. “We can see the other side!”
Mika’el’s fingers splintered the wooden rail in his grip. Despair paralyzed his lungs. The One—he slammed a door against the possibility. No. He wouldn’t go there. Not before he’d made sure. He felt the eyes of all present turn to him. Sensed them waiting. He spoke to the Virtue.
“Find the Archangels,” he ordered. “I want every inch of the border inspected. I’ll meet them on the lookout mound.”
That would give him just enough time to check on the One.
He turned away from the gallery below and then swiveled back. “Virtue.”
The angel, already halfway out the door again, looked around.
“Send someone to see that the armory is ready,” he said.
A second’s hesitation, then a nod. Mika’el cast a last glance around the room, meeting the shock in the others’ eyes. The resignation. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. They knew.
They just didn’t know everything.
He found the One in the rose garden, seated on the bench where they’d conversed so many times before, face turned up to the sun, eyes closed, hands folded in her lap. His steps didn’t falter as he crossed the lawn this time. He didn’t slow down. The time for being concerned about disturbing her had long since passed.
He stopped before her and cleared his throat.
Her eyes remained closed. “I know you’re there, Mika’el.”
“The Hellfire fails. I wasn’t sure—”
“My son took me by surprise, but I’m fine now.”
“You’re certain?”
She gave a soft snort. “Well, I’m as fine as I can be given the circumstances. How’s that?”
He smiled even though she couldn’t see him. Even though his heart ached with a ferocity that made him want to put a hand to his own chest. “I suppose it will do.”
The One exhaled a fluttery sigh. “He’s not coming back, is he?” she asked sadly.
He considered lying. Weighed the possibility of telling her that they couldn’t be sure yet. Then he shook his head.
“No. No, he’s not coming back.”
“I’m sorry, Mika’el. I hoped I would be wrong.”
We all did.
“Rest,” he said. “Get your strength back. I’ll have one of the Virtues bring you tea.”
His Creator didn’t reply.
Chapter 67
Alex steeled herself, opened Homicide’s door, and stepped inside. A dozen heads swiveled instantly in her direction. Shit. With it being Saturday, she’d hoped fewer people would be in. But given the state of affairs in the city, she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Roberts had warned everyone there would be ample overtime. A woman emerged from the file room at the back of the office. Even, apparently, for the civilian staff.
Steeling herself for the fourteenth time since entering the elevator in the parkade, she forced her feet to carry her into the room. She stopped at the edge of a gathering and nodded at the television they’d been focused on before her arrival.
“Anything important?” Please, please, please don’t let it be a rerun of me surviving the explosion in Ottawa. She’d watched the newscast a dozen times last night after Seth left. It had become more damning with every viewing. Anyone who knew her would recognize her, and judging by the silence that greeted her just now, everyone here had.
Her colleagues exchanged glances, and then Joly spoke up. “You haven’t heard this morning’s news?”
She shook her head. She usually listened to the radio on the way into work, but not today. She hadn’t been able to tolerate the noise. Not with so much already going on in her brain.
“The better part of New York State’s shoreline was hit by a freak wave sometime around two a.m. Up to fifteen feet in some places. There are dozens missing, including a Boy Scout troop.”
Alex blinked, trying to process his words. “New York City, you mean?” she asked. “The coast?”
Joly shook his head. “Lake Ontario.”
“A freak wave. In Lake Ontario.”
“From Irondequoit to Lost Nation State Forest. That’s where the scout troop was camping. They’re calling it a . . .” Joly looked to his partner for help.
“A meteotsunami,” Abrams supplied. “A tsunami caused by weather rather than an earthquake.”
“Except there was no storm,” Bastion added. “Nothing to cause it. Just the wave and more than a hundred miles of shoreline submerged.”
And now she had the answer to the question that had kept her awake most of the night. Until sheer, crippling exhaustion had sucked her into sleep—around the same time as that wave had struck New York State. Seth had taken back his powers. He was gone. In spite of the veiled threat he’d made as he’d stormed out—“We’re nowhere near done”—he’d come around. Seen her point. And left without saying good-bye. Damn, but she hadn’t expected that.
“You’re not going to pass out are you?” Joly peered at her in sudden alarm. “You just went the color of the walls. Are you supposed to be here today? Shouldn’t you be at home resting or something?”