Days of New: The Complete Collection (Serials 1-5) (33 page)

Zarachiel straightened suddenly, his eyes wide and focused somewhere over Clark’s shoulder. Clark was the last one to look back, unsure of what he would find. Frankly, he expected a mob of Descendants with pitchforks and torches hunting him down. Instead…

…Instead, he found Michaela and Gabriel landing lightly on the ground behind him, tucking their wings against their backs as they walked forward.

Michaela’s black hair threaded across her face in the slight breeze, her dark blue eyes roaming the destroyed expanse of the compound. She looked sad, her gaze faraway and subdued. Gabriel, on the other hand, looked pissed. His anger seethed beneath his still exterior.

“What happened here?” he asked, stopping a few paces in front of Clark. Michaela drew up beside him and finally looked at Clark.

“Clark,” she sighed heavily. She tucked her hands into the front pockets of her jeans, her torso wrapped in a gauzy white fabric that left room for her golden wings in the back. Lucifer had once ripped her wings from her back, but after she’d become the Angel of Death, a new set had replaced the missing first pair. They were gold and larger than any other angel’s wings Clark had seen. Staring at them for too long was like looking at the sun in the middle of the day, so Michaela mostly kept them tucked away when she was around others.

“What do you think happened?” Clark asked.

“We’re sorry.”

But it was all a little too late, and Clark didn’t have time for apologies. “No,” he growled, his eyes searing into Gabriel now, “you’re not. Because I warned you. I gave you the evidence you both needed to know that Lucifer was back. You knew, and you did nothing. Only Camille and Z were here to protect these people when Lucifer attacked like I said he would. No one else. No other angel. You left us here. Alone. And now she’s gone.” Clark was stabbing his finger into Gabriel’s chest by the end of his accusation. He hadn’t even realized he’d advanced on the Archangel.

Gabriel took it though. “We are looking for him. Honestly, we didn’t know he would move this fast. Lucifer has never acted so quickly on something.”

“Surprise, surprise! I warned you of that too. I told you and you,” he said, glaring at Michaela, “that he wasn’t right. That something was wrong with him. This isn’t the old Lucifer we’re dealing with. Something happened to him. Something bad. He’s freaking screwed up now.”

“We didn’t realize,” Michaela said quietly. But even that wasn’t good enough for Clark. They would have known if they’d listened to him in the beginning. All of this could’ve been avoided.

“Yeah, well, I guess it doesn’t really matter, huh? Heaven and Hell got their happily ever after. Their big bad wolf was killed. Everything was set right. You didn’t need us anymore. Need
me
.” Clark directed this bit to Michaela, his eyes burning. “So you left us. And now look. There’s not much left.”

“Clark, that’s not true.” Michaela’s eyes roved to Zarachiel, her once brother, like she was looking for backup.

Zarachiel closed the car door when he realized they weren’t leaving any time soon. He looked at Clark briefly before he spoke. “Michaela,” he said, taking a deep breath, like he needed to prepare himself. “More angels should have been stationed with the Descendants. We didn’t stand a chance.”

Michaela nodded slowly, taking Zarachiel’s defense of Clark on the chin with a grim expression. “I understand. Were many Nephilim hurt?” she asked Iris and Maya.

Maya’s eyes bulged, clearly shocked that the Angel of Death cared about the Nephilim. Iris answered, “No. They were safe inside the east wing. Nothing got into them.”

“That’s good,” Michaela said, smiling sadly. “I’m glad they’re okay.”

“Don’t you have a lot of human souls to be vacuuming up or whatever you do with them?” Clark snapped at her.

Gabriel stepped forward, his fists clenching. Michaela put a hand on his chest to stop him. “There are many souls to take today.”

“Watch yourself, Clark. I won’t have you talking to her like that,” Gabriel said quietly, his voice low and even. Dangerous.

“No, Gabriel, watch
yourself
. Lucifer is going hurt Camille. I saw it. I saw them in the Watchers’ cave. She wasn’t…” Clark cleared his throat. “She wasn’t okay. I have to find her before then.”

“You’re leaving?” Michaela asked.

“There’s nothing here for me. There never was. And now she’s gone. So yeah, I’m leaving. Iris has taken over leadership of the Nephilim.”

“Clark.” Michaela shook her head, dark hair blowing across her pale face. “You belong here. They need you.”

“No, they nearly killed me. They need Liam back, but he’s dead now.”

“She’s a Throne angel. She’ll be okay.”

“How can you say that?” Clark asked, shocked at Michaela’s response. “She saved you.”

Michaela flinched. Before she could speak, Gabriel said, “Let us find her then. But stay here. Help the Descendants recover from this. We’ll bring her back to you.”

Clark snorted. With a shake of his head, his eyes roamed along the tree line and the crumpled south wall. Flames still came from the fields and greenhouses, where he’d spent so much of his time after the war, planning and preparing for the coming spring. He was going to feed the world. Now all that planning and preparing was just burnt hope, nothing but wasted time and misplaced effort. He shook his head again and refocused on the angels in front of him.

“No you won’t. I won’t help anymore. It’s time the angels did something. Tell Raphael or whoever is in charge up there to get his ass down here. He can help. He can do the work this time. I have to find Camille.”

“Clark—”

“Stop it, Michaela. Just stop. I helped after the war because I thought that was what you wanted of me. But we’re right back where we started. So I’m done. Let the world burn if it must. I’m going to be on a beach somewhere with a cold beer in my hand and Camille sitting on my lap. Hopefully naked. I’m officially retiring from this end-of-the-world bullshit.”

With that, Clark turned and hugged his mom, kissing her on the cheek. He didn’t say goodbye, and neither did she. Car doors opened as Zarachiel and Maya got in, and, without looking back at Michaela, Clark circled the hood and climbed into the driver’s seat. The Chevelle rumbled to life, the seat vibrating with power beneath him. He hit the lights and shifted into gear, spinning the wheels and fishtailing across the gravel. The car rocketed down the road, through the bent and twisted gates, leaving all that was lost behind them.

He drove for a while without speaking, his thoughts too angry and conflicted. He and Michaela used to fight a lot because he’d been the only one to give it to her straight. He told her the truth, and he’d told her the truth again today. They just happened to be on completely different sides of the fence this time. He thought it would hurt to lose her confidence and support, but he was okay with it. Maybe he had healed more from the war than he’d thought. Because suddenly, Michaela’s opinion didn’t matter all that much anymore.

“I have to pee,” Maya said, leaning between the two front seats. Her heart-shape face was spotlighted by the sun’s light, her little mouth quirking up in a grin. She was clearly just trying to break the tension.

“That’s not funny.” But Zarachiel laughed even as he said the words.

“I’m kidding. So where are we going first?” she asked Clark.

“In my dream, we were at the cave, so we’re going there. But first, we’re stopping at the safe house in Olympia State Forest to drop you two off. I don’t want you or Zarachiel at the cave when this happens.”

“What?”

“That’s not happening,” Zarachiel said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“It is. Look guys, we both know what Lucifer wants: the Watchers’ secrets. He can have them so long as he gives Camille back.”

“No, he wants you dead. Then he’ll take the magic. And likely kill Camille just for fun,” Zarachiel said.

Clark shook his head. “I won’t let him do that.”

“We’re going with you.” Maya crossed her arms and sat back in the middle of the seat, eyes glaring at Clark’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

“She’s right. We’re not letting you go in there alone.”

“Whatever. We’ll talk about it when we get to the safe house.”

“Don’t think you can ditch us either,” Maya snapped.

Zarachiel looked back at her in surprise. Clearly, he hadn’t thought of that. He turned his narrowed eyes on Clark. “I know how to damage this car, Clark. You’re not ditching us.”

Clark huffed. They’d figured his ditching plan out quicker than he’d imagined. He didn’t comment, and after a while, Archangel and Nephil settled back in their seats, content that they had him caught for the moment. Maybe they did, but Clark was going into that cave alone. Honestly, he didn’t know if the old Lucifer was still inside this new, crazy version, but Clark didn’t want to bet his friends’ lives on it. He would figure out something. In the meantime, he focused on the roads.

Things were getting dark—too dark—for this part of Kentucky, even during the middle of the day. There were no lights along the road. No operating cars on the I-75 North. That was eerie enough in itself. But the woods looked denser, like in the wake of humanity, the vegetation had taken over to claim this planet alongside the cockroaches. Vines and weeds encroached on the road, making Clark feel like he was driving on a lost, forgotten planet—but then, he likely was.

There were a few AM radio channels still up, mostly emergency broadcasts still playing on repeat from the time during the plagues. Clark kept fiddling with the dial until he found an old country radio station. Johnny Cash filled the air of the car, gathering Zarachiel and Maya’s wayward attention. Clark’s dad had listened to this kind of music relentlessly, meaning Clark grew up on the stuff. He imagined himself and Isaac St. James were just out for a drive in old, backwater Kentucky. Like nothing had ever happened. Like Clark had been a good son, hadn’t questioned his father, and followed the Descendants’ cause from the very beginning like a good child soldier. Like the angels had never turned on each other. Like the world had never been broken like a cheap plaything fought over by siblings.

But it had been. And the music was soon lost to a dense static as Clark twisted the Chevelle through deeper, more forgotten woods.

The turnoff to the safe house was hard to find in the best of conditions. Clark passed by it on the first few tries; the narrow dirt path was hidden amongst a sea of foliage. Zarachiel finally spotted it, head hanging out the window like a faithful Labrador. Clark eased the Chevelle into the brush and killed the engine. Even though looters weren’t much of a concern out here in the woods, he still meticulously covered the car with loose limbs until it was camouflaged from view.

“Ready?” he asked the others. “The walk isn’t that long.”

“Good. I’m exhausted,” Maya said, blearily extracting herself from the backseat. Zarachiel took her duffel bag and carried it along with his own.

The walk was longer than Clark remembered, but it had been a while since he’d been out here. The last time was during the war, when Michaela and Gabriel’s army were deep in battles with the holy angel legion. The Archangels, Clark, Iris, and eventually Camille had all stayed in the little rundown shack. Space had been cramped, but Clark hadn’t minded all that much. Back then things had been clearer, maybe even less complicated. Of course at the time, those days had felt like the end of the world.

Funny how all that works out.

When they finally reached the clearing, the safe house was spotlighted by the blazing afternoon sun. The overgrowth around it was certainly scraggier than Clark remembered, the yard scorched from holy fire. Though the world around it crept in and invaded, the little cabin looked sturdy and strong, like it could withhold any force of nature. Clark breathed a sigh of relief. This would be a safe place, just like it had always been.

“This is it?” Maya asked. The skepticism was obvious in her voice.

“This is it.” Clark adjusted his backpack and climbed the porch’s stairs.

The door was unlocked, like it always was. Inside, the cabin was clean and orderly. Much neater than they’d left it. The kitchen was stocked with clean plates and mugs. Fresh logs lined the space beside the wood-burning stove. A vase full of old, dried flowers sat on the dining room table. And through the bedroom, Clark saw that the cots had been replaced with a large bed complete with comfy quilt and a multitude of pillows. A lamp and book lay on the bedside table. There was even a mat to wipe off the mud beneath Clark’s feet.
Welcome,
it said.

“Is someone living here?” Zarachiel asked, drawing his machete from the opened bag at his feet.

“Yes,” Clark answered evenly. His heart was heavy as he took in all the little details. The cabin felt like a home, carefully made so that it welcomed and invited. It wasn’t an old shack anymore, and he drew the conclusion easily.

“Gabriel did this for Michaela. So she could always come home.”

Chapter Five

L
ucifer had tried to tell himself no. But the craving to see Maya again was insatiable; there would be no peace for him until he was with her, even just for a few moments. He told himself he was hiking through the back woods of Kentucky because he was going to tell her the truth about him: reveal that he was Lucifer, not Lucian like he’d said before. That’s what he told himself. But his mind kept recalling her little mouth and the way she’d smiled at him.