Death, Doom And Detention Part 29

I stopped.

"You seem surprised, Lorelei." When I started to back up, he said, "I wouldn't bother. You won't get far."

"What do you want?" I asked, looking around for a weapon. Churches were so lacking in that area. I fought the paralyzing effects of fear as I inched back.

"I just wanted to see you. In person. Not through someone else's eyes."

In that instant, I realized who stood in the shadows. Vincent. The new guy. The descendant. He'd seen me through Isaac's eyes.

"Killing you has become quite the challenge. vzyl First the truck. Then that useless football kid. Then the chess nerd whose aim is s.h.i.+t."

I took another step back, wondering where everyone was.

"What do you mean, the truck?"

"You're Lorelei. You're in every prophecy ever written about this new war. h.e.l.l, Nostradamus himself prophesied about the last descendant of the first witch, the girl who saves the world. This was going to be the end of humanity as we know it. But you, the prophet, are supposed to do something completely stupid and figure out how to stop it before it even starts. You don't honestly think you were supposed to die before that time came, do you?"

I stopped and gaped into the darkness. "You ... you sent that truck?"

"Gosh, you're quick."

I heard a swis.h.i.+ng sound and he was in front of me. I tried to back away but he caught me around the neck and pulled me forward until our faces were mere inches apart. His sandy brown hair hung messy over his brow and he still wore that same tweed coat, long and loose.

"No wonder you make good grades." Turning my face to inspect it, he said, "Did you know that in Germanic mythology, Lorelei was a siren who lured men to their destruction?" He ran his thumb along my jaw. "Fitting, don't you think? Though I've never heard of an archangel being brought to his knees by a human girl." With a hoa.r.s.e laugh, he shoved me away from him. I tripped and stumbled to the ground. "I thought you'd be prettier."

I looked at what I'd tripped on and almost screamed. It was an arm. Delores's arm. She lay sprawled between two pews. I couldn't see her face, but I'd tripped on her arm and she didn't move an inch.

"The truck thing was a big disappointment," Vincent continued, unmindful of Delores. "All that work. Do you have any idea how hard it was to get that timing down? Having that kid shove you into the street at exactly the same time that truck sped through town? That took crazy planning. And then the freaking Angel of Death shows up?" He scoffed. "What are the odds?"

"Did you kill her?"

He finally looked at Delores. "Unless her head has the natural ability to turn counterclockwise three hundred sixty degrees, then probably yes."

My hands shot to my mouth. What was it with supernatural beings and the breaking of necks? "What did you do to Jared?"

"Jared? Ah, yes, Azrael." Vincent was enjoying this cat and mouse play. Jumping on a pew, he sat on the back and looked down at me as I lay sprawled in the aisle, inching away from him. "Did you know that the most powerful psychotropic in existence is the blood of an archangel?" When I didn't say anything, he continued. "No? That's understandable. Not many people do. But lo and behold, Riley's Switch just happened to have one. How else do you think we were able to control so many students at your high school?"

He seemed to pause for an answer, but I couldn't imagine he actually wanted one.

"Convincing a high school student to try to kill a perfectly innocent girl is not as easy as it might sound. But with the blood of an arch-" He spread his arms wide and looked toward the heavens. "-all things are possible." Laughing at his own joke, he hopped to the ground and straddled me, looking down from his tremendous height to intimidate. "Let's face it, shortstop, blasphemy is fun."

I bristled at the use of my nickname and continued to inch away, holding out hope someone would show up. Someone with an Uzi and lots of ammo. How could it end now? Just when my grandfather Mac had convinced me I was the right girl for the job? What would happen with the war?

"And yet," he said, shaking his head in astonishment, "here you are. Just goes to show, if you want to do something right, you've got to do it yourself."

I shook my head too, still unable to believe he could hurt Jared. "But Jared's strong and really fast."

He leaned toward me. "Yeah, well, so is a .50-caliber at a hundred yards."

"You shot him?" I asked, appalled.

"Lot of good it did us." He turned away and hopped back onto the pew. Stepping lightly onto the back, he walked it like one would a balance beam: one foot in front of the other, his arms out. He was like a kid. Like a really big kid who was psychotic and hard on the furniture.

He glanced over his shoulder. "What would have ripped another man to shreds simply wounded him, but he was out long enough for us to harvest his blood and do a small but effective binding spell to block out his light. We were hoping he would do the job for us, that he would take both you and the nephilim out." He spun and maneuvered his way back along the pew. "But when the nephilim actually got the better of Azrael-the Azrael-with a freaking dart gun? Made me proud to be what I am." He shook a finger at me. "We nephilim are not to be messed with, I can tell you that."

"You're controlling the kids from high school with Jared's blood."

"That I am." He fished in his pocket and brought out a metal vial. Lifting it for me to get a better look, he said, "Tell you what: I'll give you a taste right before I kill you." The smile that crept across his face was the most evil thing I'd ever seen. He jumped down and kneeled close. "You'll die happy, I promise you that."

Even knowing how futile the effort would be, I scurried away from him and ran. If nothing else, it would make him laugh and give me valuable seconds to get away. My bare feet padded across the tiled church and I burst out the side door. I could hardly believe I'd made it that far, but when I hit the outside, a frigid blast of wind hit me and my feet crunched across freshly fallen snow. Feeling like I'd just dived into a lake of ice, I sucked in a sharp breath. It took about two seconds for me to feel the pain from the frozen ground, but adrenaline pushed me forward.

Though the sun had managed to make it over the horizon, it was still lazing low in the distance, making my trek through the trees dark and dangerous.

At first, I headed for the safety of home. Then I thought about Delores and probably Mr. Walsh as well. Maybe even Harlan. If I led this guy to my house, what would happen to Grandma and Granddad? I quickly turned south into the trees and toward the canyon. The ground, frozen and unforgiving, cut into my feet with every step, the snow excruciating, but the adrenaline pumping through my veins kept me running at full speed ahead.

I looked back but didn't see Vincent. Did something happen? Did someone show up at the church? I stopped and waited, my lungs burning as I gasped for air. Then I saw a figure walking toward me. Casually, like he was taking a stroll in a garden. And he wore a smile on his face.

With feet numb now, I turned and ran up the mountainside some more. I had no idea why. I had no plan other than to lead Vincent away from my family and friends. Maybe I'd be enough. Maybe he'd stop with me.

He caught up to me a few minutes later. I had a feeling he appreciated my running so far. It would be harder for them to find my body. But I had to stop. I'd come to the canyon, a deep drop that ended below with a shallow river and lots of body-breaking rocks.

"There you are," he said, laughing. "You little minx. Never figured you'd get this far." He strolled a few feet from me as I looked down the canyon wall, frozen, s.h.i.+vering, and paralyzed with fear.

I wish I had gotten to know Mac better. I wish I could have seen Jared one more time. And thanked Cameron. And hugged my grandparents. And kissed Brooke and Glitch. Surely they knew how I felt about them. Surely they would understand.

"Thanks for running, by the way." He brushed some snow off his shoulder. "Couldn't kill a prophet in the church. Hallowed ground and all. Bad for the karma."

I turned toward him, tears blurring my vision and freezing on my skin.

"By all rights, I should be able to just kill you right here and now. I'm a descendant. I'm stronger than most humans. Faster."

I inched away from the edge of the canyon. If he was going to kill me, he was not going to do it by throwing me off a cliff. He would have to do it with his own hands. He would have to work for it.

He stepped forward and captured my jaw in a firm grip that had pain shooting through it. "I should just be able to break that scrawny neck of yours. To reach into your chest and rip out your heart." He closed the distance between us until his mouth was almost touching mine. "And yet every single time we try to kill you, you survive for one reason or another. So this time, I brought help."

He nodded over his shoulder, indicating the others who had come up behind him. Over a dozen boys, some no older than me, and others who looked well over twenty, stood scattered around us. All of them tall. All of them not quite right, disproportioned somehow. Their gazes were both threatening and blank. White fog drifted from their mouths like animals as they watched. But that wasn't the scary part. The scary part was what they were carrying. Each held a weapon. A machete here. An axe there. Blades so sharp, the sunlight reflected off the edges.

"Never send a human to do a nephilim's work." Vincent's expression changed, turned s.a.d.i.s.tic. "This time, there'll be no coming back."

With a shove that had me seeing stars, he pushed me to the ground.

I grabbed my throat, coughing and choking, and looked up at him. "Why?"

"Because you will be chopped into little pieces," he said, looking at me like I was an imbecile. "There's really no coming back from that."

"No, why do you want this war?" I asked between coughs. "What does it have to do with you?"

"Nothing. It has to do with humans and their arrogance and angels and their supremacy. We're the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds of two worlds. Outcasts. Unable to enter heaven because of our ancestry. Discriminated against by humans because we're different."

"What does that have to do with the war? Why would you want demons to rule the earth?"

"We don't necessarily. We just think they deserve a fighting chance. Because of you, humans have an unfair advantage. By eliminating you, we're evening out the odds. Leveling the playing field, if you will."

I scooted back, trying to get out from under him, so I was a little surprised when I heard a thud and he went flying back to slam into a tree, the impact so hard, his body broke under the pressure.

I gasped and looked up into the smiling face of an angel. Literally.

Jared was standing over me, positioned so that from my vantage, he looked upside down. He grinned. "You get into more trouble when I'm not around," he said.

With a cry of delight and relief, I scrambled to my feet and flung myself into his arms. He wrapped them tight, buried his face in my hair. Which must look horrid. He felt like heaven with central heating, warm and safe.

"Where are your shoes?"

I pulled back to look at his face. His perfect, beautiful face with the rich brown eyes and a full s.e.xy mouth. He had a bluish tint under his eyes that blended into reds and purples. He was still recovering.

One corner of his mouth tilted up teasingly. "No, really. Your feet are blue."

Vincent interrupted. "We thought you might show up." A pained smile slid across his face as he tried to stand upright. "In fact, we were counting on it." He lifted a hand and before I knew what was happening, I was back in the snow. So fast, I barely registered the movement. So hard, the breath was knocked from my lungs.

Then the sound registered. A splintering blast of gunfire that ricocheted off the trees as the bullet tore through the forest.

With a growl, Jared turned on Vincent. Blood dripped down his arm from his shoulder. The bullet had grazed him. But he was smiling right back.

"Thank you," he said. Standing again, he looked past Vincent into the trees. "I was wondering where he might be." Then he fired off a rock he'd been holding. It shot out like a cannonball and hit something with a sharp thud, the sound quickly followed by a groan.

I looked around, wide eyed, but saw nothing. No one. Did he just hit the gunman?

"That was for shooting me the first time."

Vincent looked back slack jawed, then caught himself. "Get him!" he yelled, his voice full of anger, his face twisted with rage, and the descendants started forward en ma.s.se.

Jared couldn't fight them. He had no weapon, and there were simply too many. He picked me up and pulled me to him.

"You're back," I said, my voice hoa.r.s.e.

"I'm so sorry, Lorelei."

"No, please." He had risked his life for my own, had given up everything for me. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

The descendants were getting closer. We had mere seconds before the first strike.

"So, when I tried to kill you and your friends and your family? I'm still forgiven?"

I threw my arms around him. If he was the last thing I saw on this Earth, I'd die happy. That I knew for certain.

"I'll take that as a yes."

I laughed. Despite the circ.u.mstances, which mostly consisted of our impending doom, Jared had me laughing. I heard sirens in the distance. They must have found Delores. They must have realized I was gone. My grandparents would be worried and they'd have no idea where to look. My heart broke for what they would go through when they found our bodies.

"Do you trust me?" Jared asked.

He'd asked me that before. Once when I had a grand piano about to crush me. I leaned back and looked up at him. The descendant with the axe was barely three feet away. He readied it, taking his time to aim, to get it just right.

"Of course."

"Then jump."

I looked over the side of the canyon, disbelief in my eyes. I stepped out of his arms and away from the edge. "I-I don't think-"

"Lorelei," he said, the grin sliding back into place like a favorite pair of jeans. He lifted my chin and placed the most understanding smile on me. "Jump."

Just as an axe arced toward us, I ran through the snow, closed my eyes, and jumped over the canyon wall.

FUZZY BOTTOMS.

I wasn't the first. Two people had jumped off that same cliff before, both of them alleged suicides. I hardly had time to think, to gather my thoughts before the ground came barreling toward me. A split second before I hit, I heard two words, like a whisper of wind through the trees.

"Be still."

And I stopped in one breathtaking jerk.

My eyes flew open and I looked at the ground below me. The one that was just sitting there, being all groundlike. I gasped and craned my neck to see a pair of feet planted before me. They were followed by two long legs. Then hands, strong and scuffed with fresh blood. Forearms, the muscles that corded around them flexed and ready. A lean stomach with an open wound on one side, blood spreading across a white T-s.h.i.+rt. Wide shoulders and the most amused smile I'd ever seen.

"I'm-I'm flying," I said, my voice high with astonishment.

He laughed softly. "Actually, you're hovering." He reached toward me and took one of my hands and like magic I fell into his arms. My favorite place to be.

"How-? What did you-?" I looked up the side of the cliff, then back to him. He waited patiently, letting me absorb what had just happened. "How did you-? I don't-" I stopped, a.s.sessed the situation, then looked back up at him. "I think I peed my pants."

He tightened his hold. "You aren't wearing pants."

"I think I peed my fuzzy bottoms."

Jared arched his brows, but I had a thought.

"If we live through this, Brooke and Glitch have got to try that."

Throwing his head back, he laughed out loud, the sound rich and luxurious and welcome. It caused a fluttering sensation to rush over me, like b.u.t.terflies, like warm water.