“But you won’t let him, will you?” he said with a certainty in his voice that was the best gift anyone could’ve given me, and few, because of what I was, did. Unwavering trust.
“No, I won’t.” I touched his face and the bruise that hadn’t had time to fade. “But don’t agree to this because you think you have something to make up for. If you do, I’ll know it, and we’ll go right back upstairs and let the Apocalypse come. I mean it.”
He shook his head. “I’ve seen the error of my ways there. Ex-demon is now politically correct in my book. It might be why Azrael finds me so disgusting. If I can rise up and change my ways, others could as well. I want to do this because it’s the right thing to do.” He bumped Zeke’s shoulder with his own. “It is, Zeke. You know it, and you would do it too.”
“I don’t care. You almost let demons kill you. Demons. That’s goddamn pathetic.” Zeke pushed him with enough force to shove him back a step. “How can I look after you if you won’t look after yourself, huh? How? I fucking can’t, can I?”
“Trixa won’t let Cronus kill me.” Griffin didn’t push back. Zeke had been pushed enough this week, emotionally. He would’ve tolerated physically better. “And if she can’t stop him, then I will. I promise, Zeke, and I’ve never broken a promise to you. Hell, I couldn’t. You know that.”
“Damn it. Damn it.” Zeke hung his head. “Just . . . shit. If you get yourself killed, I’m not speaking to you again, and this time I mean it.” He got into the back of the car and slammed the door hard.
“It’s not fair to him.” I was wearing the same clothes I’d worn yesterday to rob the museum. All black, but the fall while running from the museum guards had taken its toll. I had washed them this morning. There was something ignoble about showing up to a battle wearing muddy streaks on your shirt and gum on your knee. “But then again I guess it’s not fair to any of us.”
“I think you and Leo have had it easy for too long.” Griffin curled his lips. “Time to know what it is to fight with a baseball bat instead of an Uzi.” He opened the same door Zeke had shut. “Move over, you cranky bastard. Don’t make me PDA you in front of God and everybody.”
As the door closed again. Leo cracked his knuckles in the palm of his other hand. “An Uzi. I think that boy vastly underestimates who we are.”
“Who we were,” I reminded him. “Are you ready to be human?” I’d learned over the past few days that playing human was easy, but being human was a bitch. I’d lost a home I’d never thought I’d want, and I was a person I never thought I’d be. Still, I hadn’t once in my life let a lack of resources stop me from doing what had to be done. That wasn’t going to change now. Being human would only make the victory that much sweeter, life itself that much sweeter.
“We’re going to get our asses handed to us,” Leo said with grim humor.
“Oh, without a doubt.” I sighed as I started around the car. “Cronus will need a shopping cart to haul them around in.”
Because life . . . It wasn’t always sweet.
Arrow Canyon is about an hour northeast of Vegas. I’d hiked it before, on feet and paws. A narrow canyon that runs several miles long with petroglyphs painted on the walls and a dam at the end; it’s a good place to commune with nature or end it. Cronus wouldn’t care how picturesque the battlefield was, but during the week and work hours, the location would guarantee hopefully that no bystanders happened to wander into the middle of something they couldn’t imagine no matter how much acid they’d taken in their misspent youth. The hikers tended to stick to weekends . . . whether they had a history of wild drug-induced hallucinations or not.
Brown rock rose high around us as we walked about a mile from where we left the SUV at the municipal well. Leaving it was necessary as I didn’t want it thrown at us, and I was sure that if it was around, it would be. We ended up at the trailhead of the canyon. There were creosote bushes, Mojave yuccas with their green leaves like pointed daggers at their base, and a blue sky with tattered clouds so white they almost hurt your eyes. As you went on, the canyon would narrow considerably. In a tight spot and near the dam were not precisely where I would want to be facing Cronus. There was no reason to make things ridiculously easy for him. If he was going to kick our asses, at least I wanted him to work up a mild sweat over it.
I’d sacrificed my favorite shotgun to make Griffin’s “kidnapping” by demons look more convincing to the cops, but Leo had an early birthday present tucked away for me in his closet, a Benelli semiautomatic shotgun. It would blow the head off a demon easily, but against Cronus it would be less of the baseball bat Griffin had mentioned and more of a toothpick. I’d left it behind. The sword was what I carried. The great thing about a sword made of water, besides how it glittered brightly in the sun . . . very fancy . . . was that it was light. It weighed less than the pitcher of water had and much less than your conventional broadsword.
Griffin and Zeke both were carrying guns as well. They wouldn’t do any more good than Leo’s own shotgun, but it was hard to go into a fight without some sort of weapon—natural or manufactured. “This is it.” I scuffed the dirt under the black sneakers we’d stopped and bought on the way. Neither boots or bare feet were going to make it a mile over the Nevada desert, and Leo hadn’t happened to also purchase me footwear for that early birthday present. “Where we make our stand.” It wasn’t especially auspicious that the word “stand” was almost always accompanied by “last.”
Zeke shrugged. “Here or at the am/pm. Doesn’t matter, except at least I could get candy bars at the am/ pm.”
“I only wish someone were here to write down those poetic words for posterity,” Leo said. “They are epic in breadth and scope. Homer would be green with jealousy.”
Zeke pumped a round in his shotgun. “There’s not a whole lot poetic about dying,” he said matter-of-factly.
He was right. I took a deep breath, feeling my mortality acutely. I’d always been mortal, but I hadn’t been so vulnerably mortal. I hadn’t been human, hadn’t given them credit for staring into the face of death with nothing more to keep them going than hope, optimism, or ruthlessly channeled resignation to their fate. If we survived, I’d be tempted to give them a little slack in the future. “Griffin?”
As Leo and Zeke flanked him, Griffin showed his wings and spread them wide. Zeke had been right. They were the wings of a dragon, flown out of the heart of the sun to land impossibly on Earth. They were the same beautiful gold I’d seen before, untarnished and wholly undemonlike. Hopefully, Cronus wouldn’t know that. As I stepped in front of Griffin, my back to him and the sword down and behind my leg, the Titan proved he didn’t. He appeared twenty feet in front of me. Subtly this time, with no moving of the world, only a small ripple in the shadow of it. It was all the worse for that.
The emptiness inside him, the dark clots of nothing-ness that swallowed everything and anything, was pouring out. From his eyes and his mouth, it ran down the unnaturally smooth face... down the inside-out shirt and cardboard cutout of jeans, down the offensively careless costume of a human being, and began to eat away at the ground beneath his feet. The earth was being unmade beneath him, unraveling in tiny pockets as you could for the first time see what reality was formed from. It was glorious to see and then horrible to watch it die. Cronus took a step and the world cringed beneath it. His blackly bleeding eyes fixed on Griffin and the word passed out of his mouth through the shadows. “Finally.”
“Finally is right,” I said. “Finally your days are no more. You took my one home, you bastard, but you’re not taking the other.” He wasn’t taking Griffin either. Griffin had risked his life for my plan and Zeke had risked that much more. I wasn’t going to let Cronus pass through me to Griffin and his wings. Pure and simple. It wasn’t going to happen.