The Celestial Kiss (32 page)

If I could provoke him, get him to kill me now, like this, it would ruin whatever he intended.  My death would undermine everything he’d been planning, probably from the minute he’d laid eyes on me.  Getting him to kill me now, laying those past two years to waste, would be the sweetest form of revenge, a mix even more heady than this.  Not that I would enjoy it once I was dead.

His nails pierced the skin; I tried to keep back my pained moan, but it managed to find its way out of my soul, twining with my sense of triumph so that it became a sort of laugh.  He stopped immediately, loosening his grip.  I refused to take my eyes from his, silently daring him to do it, even when the thunderous sound of footsteps echoed in my ears.  Xian stood, unflinching, unspeaking, until the last second when his hand released me entirely.  He was gone before I even sank to the floor, still smiling stupidly. 

“Lilith!”  My own name sounded like thunder in my ears, an indecipherable sound.  A hand moved to my neck, applying pressure, but I stared at the spot where Xian had been just seconds before.  The euphoria that coursed through me distanced me from everything: the faces, the words they spoke, the sound of the footsteps that crashed off in pursuit of Xian.  It wasn’t until James grabbed my face in his hands with eyes full of worry that I crashed back into myself.

“James?”  I breathed his name, afraid saying it loudly would break whatever spell this was.

“I’m here.  It’s ok.  Julius will find him.”  James promised me.  “Are you ok?”  He looked at the blood that seeped out from under his hand, sticky and warm against my skin.  It seemed a strange question, but I knew he meant it as a question of my mentality.  It was the first I’d seen him since I’d left, and though it couldn’t have been more than a day or two ago, it seemed like it had been a lifetime.

I nodded and threw my arms around him.  James reciprocated, folding me into him, my arms still looped around his neck.  I’d been so sure he was gone.  The way Janna had cried, like she’d lost a loved one…  But James was here, and this was real.  It had to be; you couldn’t feel pain in dreams.

My unspoken question was answered when we emerged into the main corridor.  It was Olias who lay on the ground, cold and empty, not unlike I’d last seen him.  And Janna kneeled still at his side, his hand pressed between hers, dark hair forming a curtain that obscured her face.  But I could hear her sobs; her cries still echoed in the empty space of my memory.  “Janna…”  Her name wasn’t much more than a mumble on my lips.  If she heard it, she didn’t pay any attention to me.

“Let her grieve.”  James told me, his voice subdued.  He turned his head to nod at someone, a wordless command: stay with her.  Desmond nodded his understanding, though he hadn’t looked like he was going anywhere to begin with.

“I don’t understand.”  I mumbled.  But my words disappeared in the plume of black smoke that billowed out around the staircase, choking the air upward.  James paused just long enough for me to see—or rather, not see—the whole downstairs obscured in the black clouds.  I choked on it, felt it burning through me, but James descended the stairs with me still in his arms, undaunted.  I trusted James; it was why I allowed myself to relax into him even as we disappeared together into the thick of it.  I tried to keep my eyes open but it burned, so I screwed them shut until the air lightened, taking on the smell of leaves and the wind. 

It was cold outside, but not unpleasantly so, and when I opened my eyes it was to the mild sun, hanging low in the crisp pink sky.  Even as it neared sunset, the sky burning bright and blood orange, I knew he’d escaped.  When it had been a church, the building had offered sanctuary from persecution.  It had once been a safe haven for all.  I remembered playing in those tunnels, imagining the people that had hidden there until it was safe to leave.  And though I’d never found it, I knew there was an exit, a way to escape persecution. 

.  Over time, I’d sort of forgotten the tunnels existed, but why wouldn’t they?  The whole city was built around them.  They spanned from the werewolves den to different locations in the city, the woods, even by the sea.  I understood, now, how Xian had been coming to us in the past few weeks.  Underground, time had no meaning.  He could taunt us in daylight or night, if he was careful.  He’d been slipping out, literally right under my father’s nose.

I watched the house now, as James carried me away from the mess and the chaos.  Windows were shattered, bodies lie charred on the ground, a last desperate attempt to escape the werewolves.  A chorus of screams seemed to pulse in that house, as though the very walls were finally letting loose, lamenting on all the horrors they’d witnessed over the years.  And as the fire raged and we made our escape, I couldn’t help feeling victorious despite my failure.  Xian was gone…Julius could chase him, but he wouldn’t find him.  And Janna was still in there, though the people James had charged with her care would ensure she got out alive.  The queen was dead, my father was dead, Olias was dead.  I didn’t know who else was.  Dozens, at the very least.  It had been a blood bath severe enough to paint the walls, and yet a sense of pride flickered in me, faint as my pulse, while I watched the walls crumble. 

The ashes that flew through the autumn air, drifting on the heat of the fire, made me lighter.  At last, that house was gone.  And as I watched my prison burn, I knew that despite the chain of circumstance that tethered my future, I was finally free.

“We have to go after them!” 

The windows seemed to shake with the tenor of Julius’ anger.  James watched him wearily, his features hardened by the ordeal he’d just been through.  Janna sat next to him, more quiet than I’d ever imagined she was capable of being, her thoughts lost… probably still with Olias in the ashes of my past. 

A few of the elders sat around the chamber, looking worried or nervous or upset.  They whispered to each other and cast long, thoughtful looks at us.  It was as if everybody in the room were dying, their energy drained by the grief and exhaustion that their earlier altercation had sapped them of.  Everybody except Julius, who was alight with anger, spurred by a refusal to accept defeat.  And me.  I was alight with energy, as if every nerve in my body were exposed. 

“He’s right.”  The words tumbled out of me from some place I didn’t even recognize.  “We can’t just sit around.  Every moment we waste here, they get further away.  And the further away they get, the more dangerous they become.”

“If we just let them go on their way, we are opening ourselves to attack!”  Julius continued feverishly.  “With all the death around here, I don’t think anyone is up for another fight like that.”

“The longer they are out there, the more people that will be in danger.”  I chimed.  “We can’t let them get away!”

“I propose we break up into several directions.  If we get out into groups of four, we should be able to cover our bases and still have considerable protection here.  But we have to move fast, or we will miss our chance.”

“Enough.”  One of the elders stood.  He was short—the size of a child—but his hair was entirely white.  “I don’t know if either of you realize that dozens of lives were just lost.  The queen, may she rest in peace, is gone and you’re worried about going back out there and risking more lives.”  He clucked his tongue in disapproval and shook his head.

“She was my
mother
!”  Julius roared. 

His eyes softened on his brother and sister, looking as defeated as we all felt.  He took a breath.  “And that is why we must fight back.”

“That is why we must not!”  James broke his silence; his voice was sharper than I’d expected.  “These lives are too valuable to be wasted upon retaliation.  We are above that.”

“What are you saying?”   Julius snorted.  “Let them keep on?  How many times are you going to let them get the better of you?”

“Julius,” Janna’s voice was soft, almost pleading, but even she couldn’t quell his anger.  She didn’t have the strength to try.

“They killed our sister, in case you’ve forgotten! 
They tore her apart!
  And our mother!  Xian is responsible for father’s death, and let’s not forget all the people today!  Evan and Marcus!  Lucinda and Connor and Matthias!  Olias!”  His chest rose and fell violently with his passion.  I felt only a fraction of what he did, surely, and yet the way it crashed through me was potent enough to keep me trying.  “Where does it end?”

“An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.”  James’ voice was distant, as though the words were merely a recitation of something he’d heard but never truly believed.  I didn’t doubt they were.

“So you’ll sit back and do nothing?!”  Julius slammed his fist into the wooden table.  I jumped, but everybody looked at him passively; this was the sort of behavior that they expected from him. 

“We will wait.”  James said it like it was meant as a compromise, but I knew it was his ruling.  “When the time is right—”

“The time will never be right!”  Julius interjected.  “How far can they push you, James?  I don’t even know you anymore.”  He shook his head sadly and turned like he was going to go.  He seemed to think better of it.  “What makes you tick?  Is it her?”  He shot me an accusatory look, as if James’ hesitance to take action were upon my request.

James said nothing, but something in his face changed…hardened.  His jaw tensed.  “So that’s it then?”  Julius snapped, shrugging his massive shoulders.  He looked to Janna, but she said nothing, her silence affirming a dedication to her brother’s decision.  “So the king has spoken.”  His voice was bitter as he backed toward the door, shaking his head.  “You’re a coward.”

I looked at James desperately, and then turned, following his brother from the room. 

Julius was already halfway down the hall when I made it out the door, and after running to catch up with him, I inserted myself in his path, barring his exit—as if that would have done anything. “You’re leaving.”  I knew the answer; it was more of a statement of fact than a question.

“I’m not going to sit back and wait for something to happen.  I’ve got matters to attend to.”  He made to push me aside with a well-muscled arm, but I dug my feet into the ground and resisted him. 

“What about Janna?”

“What about her?”  His voice was gruff, layered to sound unconcerned, but the hesitance in his eyes betrayed him.

“She’s grieving.  I don’t know what happened between them, but Olias’ death wrecked her.  How can you walk away and leave her?”

“It’s better this way.”  He attempted to push by me again, but I held my ground, refusing to move.  I pushed back against him, noticing the tear in his leather jacket.  Suddenly, everything made a lot more sense.  I sucked in a sharp breath.

“Because you’re dying too…”

“What?”

“Your sleeve.”  I nodded at his arm.  “You were bitten.”

Julius faced me, impassive.  “So?”

“So you have, what, three days?”

“Something like that.”  He shrugged and began walking again, prepared to leave and never look back.

“And you aren’t going to tell her?”

“It’s better this way.”  Julius repeated.  But he didn’t seem to believe it.

“You’re worried about your dignity.”  I accused.  It was a shot in the dark, but in the light of day, it made sense.  “You don’t want her to see you go through that.”

Surprisingly, he smiled.  “You’re not as dumb as you look.”

“You’re just going to disappear?  No letter, no explanation…nothing?”

“I’m sure you’ll do that for me.  Besides, you’re one to talk about pride.”  This time, when he pushed me aside I let him elbow by me.  And then I followed.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Julius stopped, turned around with a small smile on his face.  “Nothing.”

This time, I let him go with no further questions.  When I turned around, it was to face the man who’d been in my room just before Olias died.  He looked at me sadly, the way I’d imagine you would look at a ghost that no longer frightened you.  But he did frighten me.  “What are you doing here?”

I saw James over his shoulder, a respectable distance, but his nod assured me that he was there, that nothing would happen to me.  “I don’t even know where to begin.”  He said, looking truly bewildered.  “Can we go for a walk?”

“No.”  I crossed my arms.  “Did you put that picture on Calista’s chest?”  I demanded.

“What picture?”  The man’s eyes narrowed, something like concern and suspicion shaping them. 

“I’ll take that as a no.  So, let me ask again: who are you and what are you doing here?”

“My name is Sam.” 

The name stirred something in my brain, but I was tired.  It took a lot of thought to trace it back to that Robert Frost poem with the name hastily scrawled upon it.  “Samuel?”

“Only to family…which, you are.”

I blinked, trying to make some connection between the meanings of his words.  I tried to reconcile him as the son of Gabrielle, who had used her last weeks on this Earth trying to help me to escape.  And yet, he was saying he was family.  I looked to James, uncertain, but he only nodded, telling me to hear him out.  “Was Gabrielle your mother?”  I asked.

Sam shook his head.  “Gabrielle was a spy.  She was sent to Providence as an informant of mine.  She was just doing her job when she found you.  And she probably would have never known any better, if she hadn’t seen your necklace.”  His eyes looked to where it should have been, as if seeking confirmation.  “Once she told me about that, I knew it was you.”

“So Gabrielle wasn’t your mother?”  I’d left on the mission of offering her some final act of redemption.  Now, Sam was telling me that she hadn’t even been his mother.  Just some woman who had worked for him, for whatever reason a forty year old woman would have had to spy for a man half her age.

“No.”  Sam shook his head.  “My mother’s name was Evelyn.  She died a long time ago, only a few months after she and my sister went missing.”  Sam stepped forward and I stepped back, refusing to accept the direction that his story was headed in.  He grabbed the collar of his shirt and gave it a tug to reveal a tattoo of a two interlocking triangles.  My heart hammered hard into my chest, unsure of whether to trust this stranger, or of what to make of the tattoo that perfectly matched the necklace that had been stolen from me, a token of my mother.  “My mother was yours, Lilith.”

I’d been shaking my head, small and subtle movements, but now I was rattling my brain into my skull with the force.  “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.  You and our mother disappeared from the face of the Earth when we were just a little over a year old.  We thought you were dead.”

“We?”

“Father and I.  He searched everywhere for you, for years.  He never stopped looking—from Rome to Africa to Denmark, we looked for you.”

The story was ridiculously over-wrought.  And the biggest problem I had with it was that it made no sense.  “Why would our mother run away?  Why would she leave you?”

“She didn’t.”  Sam’s voice was sad.  “You were kidnapped… both of you.  Arich, the man who kept you locked up all those years… he stole you and our mother.”

I thought of all the years he’d kept me out of sight, sending me to my room whenever a new guest was visiting, telling me that children were to be neither seen nor heard unless it was asked of them…  He couldn’t have been my father, I’d known that all along.  That was impossible.  But then, so was I.  “Why would he kidnap us?”  I didn’t sound as doubtful as I felt.  It made sense, despite my not wanting to believe it.

“Because of what you are.  Lilith, you’re a zenith.”

He said the word like it was a position of reverence, but it had no meaning to me.  James came to stand with me now, wrapping an arm around me.  But I stared at the young man before me who claimed to be my brother and was calling me strange things, desperate to know what he meant and equally as desperate for him to be wrong.  I didn’t know what it would mean if he was telling the truth, but I couldn’t handle another upheaval in my world.  “Which is what?”

Sam looked at James, as if seeking help, but there was nothing James could do.  “You’ve heard of the Allon sisters?  Celeste, Lilith, and Zenith?”

I glanced at James, the one who’d told me all I knew of Celeste and Lilith.  He squeezed my arm gently, like he was trying to give me some kind of strength.  “No.”  I said.

“Well,” He let out a sigh.  “Our father is so much better at explaining these kinds of things.  The abbreviated version is that they were the first three humans. Lilith was kidnapped and corrupted by the fallen angel Lucifer, Celeste fell in love with a latter-born werewolf, and Zenith was left alone in the middle, watching her sister’s wage war against each other.  They fought for her, each of them desperate for her to pick a side, but Zenith refused.  She served as an intermediary, the in-between who kept peace between her sisters and, subsequently the werewolves and vampires.”

“But she lived long ago.  How can you say I am her?”

“Not her.”  Sam shook his head, a wave of sandy hair falling into his face.  “One of her descendants, just like me, just like our parents.  Zenith refused to choose sides with her sisters, but the fighting drove her mad.  She ate out the heart of one werewolf and one vampire and cast a spell.  It transformed her into something that was everything and nothing.  She was not werewolf, not human, not vampire.  Zenith couldn’t watch either of her sisters be destroyed, so she chose both sides.  It made her powerful—all the strength of a werewolf, the speed of a vampire—but not bound to the conventions of either.  She could not be controlled—not by the sun, not by the moon, not by her sisters, or God, or Lucifer.  She became the pinnacle—the untouchable thing that stood out of reach from the rest.  That is what we are.”

I felt a little bit of nausea threaten to tip my stomach at the thought of being descended from someone who ate hearts, but I guess it was no worse than being descended from someone who feasted on babies or drank the blood of the innocent.  I didn’t want to believe him, this stranger who thought he could so casually insert himself and his theories into my life, but I did.  Because I’d always known that the man who’d never been able to offer a kind word to me couldn’t have really been my father.  And because why else did the sun not burn me?  Why didn’t I need blood?  Why had I never been turned, until now?

“Xian bit me.  I’ve already changed.  I can feel it.”

“No.”  Sam shook his head.  “You’ve ascended.  Look, I know this is a lot to take in.  James was kind enough to offer me a room.  I’ll give you time to sort through this on your own.  Whenever you want to talk about it, I’ll be there.”

He and James shared a curt nod before he walked away, his hands thrust in his pockets.  I turned to James, dizzy with all the weight of these new revelations, of the implications.  The relief on James’ face sent a surge of it through me, too.  “You’re not dying.”  He said against the thick scarf that Iz had brought to cover the bruises on my neck.