Torment (Soul Savers Book 6) (25 page)

“I love you,
too,” I said through my tears, knowing he could still hear me.

I cried into my hands.
I felt so lost. So abandoned. I pulled my hands away from my face and
dug my fingers into my palm, trying to find a way into my book. Maybe
the Angels had a message in there for me. They had to have a message
for me! We were stuck, with no idea where to go.

“
Have
you
abandoned us?” I cried out to my ancestors and the Angels when
the book didn’t appear in my palm. “Have you given up?
Because I don’t blame you if you did. I’ve screwed up
more times than I know. I’ve been nothing but a disappointment,
I’m well aware.” I changed my thoughts to God himself.
“Your will is the way, and if Your will is to leave us be
because we don’t deserve You anymore, I get it. I really do. I
don’t think we deserve You either.”

I didn’t really
know what else to say. If we’d been left here on Earth
completely on our own, it’s not like I could demand a signal to
know this. If they were gone, they were gone. They wouldn’t
have been listening to me anyway.

I dropped my hands from
my face and looked up at Jesus hanging on the wall. And anger began
to build in my chest. “Except that You promised, you know. You
promised to never abandon us—well, to never abandon Your
children. Maybe I don’t deserve Your mercy, but what about all
the Normans out there? They can be ignorant, yes, but that doesn’t
mean they deserve to be abandoned. They’re not all bad, are
they? I can’t believe that.”

I gripped the pew in
front of me, leaned my forehead against it, and stared at my boots
that were no longer black, but gray, covered in dust. My breath
sighed out of me. I kept trying to help and save everyone, and
instead, I only brought death. Maybe this lack of support was not an
abandonment of the Amadis or the Normans, but only of me. Maybe that
was my message, the same one I’d been saying all along, coming
loud and clear now from Heaven above: I wasn’t meant for this.

“Alexis.”

The female voice in the
room made me jump.

“Darling.”

I gasped at this
familiar one.

“Alexis Katerina,
look up.”

Only one person called
me that, usually when she was angry. Now she said it with love, and
tears filled my eyes as I rolled my head back and dared to look up.

And my mouth gaped
open.

I couldn’t
breathe. I definitely couldn’t say anything. I could only stare
with my mouth hanging wide open.

Three figures stood
between me and the table of candles, blocking out the Jesus on the
wall. Three women, all dark-haired with a tint of red, all dark-eyed
with similarly shaped faces. All wearing white dresses that looked
quite a bit like my wedding dress, only made of some Otherworldly
material that looked like soft leather and no fancy gems decorated
the collar, giving them an overall fiercer appearance. And all with
white, feathery wings tucked closely behind them.
Huge
wings,
with their apexes reaching several inches above the women’s
heads and their tips draping on the floor by their feet.

I plastered myself
against the back of the pew as I drank in the sight.

“
Mom?
Rina?”
I eyed the other one. I’d known her voice from hearing it in my
head several times before. My heart shook in my chest. “Cassandra?”

They all smiled at me.

“You’re
really here?” I asked in disbelief. Their grins only grew. I
peeled myself away from the back of the pew and leaned forward. I
reached out to touch Mom’s hand. “Oh my God!”

“Alexis,”
she warned, and my eyes darted to the wall behind her, although I
couldn’t see Jesus anymore.

“Sorry,” I
murmured. “I just … I can’t …
MOM!
”

I sprang from the pew,
somehow hurdled over the front one, and threw myself at her. She
caught me in her arms. Her familiar scent enveloped me, confirming
further she really stood here, although it was mixed with an unusual
freshness, like how the Sacred Archives smelled. Then I turned to
Rina and hugged her, too. I stood awkwardly in front of Cassandra,
but she pulled me into her arms for an embrace.

“You’re
Angels
?” I demanded, reaching out to touch the top of
Mom’s wing. It moved when I did, and I jerked my hand back. Mom
laughed. I wanted to cry. I thought I’d never hear her laugh or
feel her hugs again.

“We’ve been
promoted, in a way,” she said.

“Heaven needs all
the help available in these times,” Cassandra added.

I laugh-snorted. “Yeah,
well, so do I.”

“And you have it,
darling,” Rina said.

I spun on her. “You’re
staying?”

My heart leapt with
hope.

“Sorry, honey,
but we cannot stay,” Mom said, and I crashed back down to
reality. “This is your realm. We are needed in the Otherworld.”

I slumped onto the
front pew.

“We have not
abandoned you, though,” Cassandra said. “We are still
fighting for you where we are. We are still providing you guidance
when you need it. The Angels and God himself are behind you, Alexis.”

You could have
fooled me
.

“Darling, you
have not needed us,” Rina said. Could she still read minds? Or
could they all? Well, they’d spoken in my head before, so I
supposed that was my answer. I couldn’t think without them
hearing me, but when I pleaded for their help, they ignored me.

“We are not
ignoring you,” Cassandra said. “But there are some trials
you must face. Some lessons you must learn on your own. Some
decisions you must make for yourself. And some consequences must be
suffered in order for you to become the strongest daughter you can
be.”

My eyes bugged. “So
this has all been about training and testing? You’re letting
Normans die so
I
can learn some kind of lesson?”

“No, dear, we are
fighting for them in our own realm. Remember, their souls are what
matter most.”

I crossed my arms over
my chest. “So as long as their souls are safe from evil, who
cares if they die?”

Mom winced. “It
sounds bad, but really, yes, that’s how it is. Your purpose is
to protect souls. Protect them from evil. From the Daemoni. They need
to be stopped.”

“I won’t
argue with you there. But I’m completely failing at that.
They’re too strong for us, and Lucas is too cunning for me. Too
experienced.” I sighed and dropped my head into my hands. “I
can’t beat him, Mom. They’ve always outnumbered us, and
now they have the Normans turned against us. How can we protect them
and their souls when they’re trying to kill us every time we
turn around?”

“The humans are
not all against you, darling,” Rina said.

I lifted my head to
look at her. “Well, if there are any still on our side and
still alive, where are they? Because we sure as hel-eck haven’t
found them.”

“That is why we
have come,” Cassandra said. “To assure you that we are
here. That we are fighting, too. You cannot see us on the other side
of the veil, but we are battling alongside you. We have come to
direct you to help.”

I nodded. Finally, a
break. “Thank you! Where are they? What do I do?”

“Go to the abbey.
Find the door with the wings carved into the wood above it. Knock
twice, pause, then knock five more times.”

I tilted my head and
stared at her with a lifted brow. Was she kidding me? Go to some
strange door with who knew what lurked inside and give a secret-coded
knock? Did we look like school kids trying to get into the
neighborhood tree house club?

“You’ll
find what you need there, honey.” Mom reached out for my hand.

I sensed the farewell,
so I grabbed hers and lurched upwards, back into her arms. I held on
to her as though I held on to life. In a way, I did. “I’ve
missed you so much. I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry I
didn’t stop him. I’m so sorry ….”

Tears flowed down my
cheeks, and my whole body quaked with the weight of the pain and
regret I’d been carrying around since the night she died.

“Nothing to be
sorry about, Alexis. This is the way it’s supposed to be, and
you will stop him now.
You
are meant to do this. Not me. I am
meant to be in the Otherworld, with the rest of the Amadis daughters
and the Angels.”

“Please don’t
leave me again,” I cried, holding her tightly.

“We’re
always here, Alexis. But we all have our roles. We all have our
places to serve. Your place is here. Mine is not. Just know that I
always love you.” She pressed a kiss to my head, unable to find
my face buried between her shoulder and neck.

“I love you,
too,” I cried, and I fell forward to my knees, nothing there to
hold my weight anymore.

They were gone.

I leaned over my thighs
and sobbed, feeling more alone than ever.

A few minutes, or
perhaps hours, later, the door opened. Tristan found me on my knees
on the floor, probably looking as though I bowed in prayer. Except my
whole body trembled, more with anger than sadness and loneliness as
he sat down beside me.

“What’s the
matter, my love?”

“Nothing,”
I said before sitting up and swiping the backs of my hands over my
eyes. “Everything.” I threw my hands in the air and let
them smack down on my thighs. “Just when I think I have
answers, when we think we’re doing the right thing, when we
have direction, the door gets slammed in our faces.”

I laughed, even as the
anger burned in my chest. How could I tell him Mom, Rina, and
Cassandra had been here, looking like Angels? How could I explain
their ridiculous instructions? I’d imagined the whole scene. I
had to have. I
hoped
I had, and that some sorceress hadn’t
thrown me into another false vision. Either way, their visit could
not have been real. Mom and Rina wouldn’t tease me like that.
Would they?

“I think I’m
just tired,” I said. “Tired already of all of this. Tired
of being tired.”

“Everyone else is
resting until nightfall. Come on.” He took my hand and pulled
me to my feet, then led me to a small office that had probably
belonged to the priest.

He sat on the
suede-upholstered couch and pulled me down with him, then wrapped his
arms around me and lay down. We squirmed and wiggled, getting
ourselves situated, without him letting go of me.

“You smell
different,” he said.

“Yeah, probably
gross. I need a shower.”

“No. More like
heaven,” he murmured into my hair before we fell into a
restive, regenerative sleep that I’d needed more than I
expected.

“Alexis,
Tristan.” Blossom’s voice, soft, coming through a crack
in the door. “Solomon has an idea.”

We both sat up
simultaneously, instantly awake.

Ten minutes later, we’d
all gathered into the pews in the sanctuary, and Solomon stood in
front of us, near the altar, as though ready to deliver a sermon.

“We need to go to
Westminster Abbey,” he announced, and I didn’t know
whether to laugh or scream.

“Is this some
kind of joke?” I asked him. “Did they come to you, too?
Tell you to find the door with the wings carved in the casing and
give a special secret knock?”

Solomon leveled me with
a what-the-hell look. “I know not what you mean, but we should
be able to find help at the abbey.”

“Nobody wants to
help us,” I said. “They only want to kill us.”

“Surely there’s
somebody,” Sheree said.

“Well, if there
is, they’re too terrorized to come out and show it,”
Vanessa said. “I wouldn’t bank on anyone at the abbey
being willing to help us—if there even is anyone. The Daemoni
probably started there as they seemingly have with all the so-called
religious leaders.”

Solomon’s
cornrows grazed his shoulders as he shook his head. “No, I no
longer expect anyone to be there, but there is protection on its
sacred grounds. And there is a stash of weapons.”

“We all have
weapons,” Owen pointed out. “In some form or another.”

“The kinds of
weapons we cannot use against the Normans,” Solomon said. “The
kinds of weapons that identify us as supernaturals as soon as we use
them.”

Tristan straightened up
next to me and nodded. “Right. Yes, you’re right,
Solomon. We need to look and act more Norman. Carry Norman weapons.
Fight like them. Even if we have to fight against them, at least it’s
fairer.”

“Well, not
exactly fair,” Vanessa said as she barely flicked her wrist and
a throwing star soared across the room. She suddenly stood where
she’d aimed, holding the star between her fingers. “It’s
not like they’d have a chance against us.”

“It’s not
like we’re going to seriously fight them either,” Char
quipped. “They’ll have the advantage because they don’t
care if they hurt or even kill us. Besides, not everyone here is like
you.”

Before we could argue
any further, air-raid sirens sounded and a nearby explosion shook the
church. I grabbed Dorian’s hand and ran for the cellar, where
we spent four more hours taking shelter from the bombs and discussing
our options. We had few. Well, only one that provided any semblance
of a real plan. When our surroundings finally fell quiet, we
estimated the time to be about three a.m. If we were going to head to
Westminster, this was the time to do it. Hopefully, Normans slept,
and the streets would be quiet.

Of course, we couldn’t
possibly have such good luck.

The first fifteen
blocks proved to be easy as we stuck close to the buildings, dark
shadows moving in a dark night. The city felt like another
world—blacked out and silent with no power. No lights
brightened the sky with a soft backlight for as far as we could see.
No Big Ben, giant Ferris wheel, or any buildings lit up to provide a
sense of location or direction. The only light came from the
occasional orange glow of the fires still burning in some buildings.
No motors hummed. No horns or emergency sirens. Every once in a
while, I’d hear a car engine in the far distance, speeding
away. Nobody—and I meant
nobody
—walked the
streets. Yes, it was the middle of the night, but this was London,
not some small town in Bible-belt America.