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The Order (Nightwalkers Book 8) Page 8


  Beside me, Kass’s mother smiled. “This is what can be if you choose the light.” Her hazel eyes roamed over me. “You see why he did not show you the entire scene, don’t you? You understand he cut through memories and visions to guide your mind to hatred and jealousy? Kass was always yours, just as you were always hers.”

  In a bright, blinding flash, we were back in the cemetery. Her hand slipped from mine, and she took a step back. Or…floated a step back? She smiled at me, and I—I felt strangely at peace. Worlds calmer than I was before she showed up.

  “You have the power here, not him,” she referenced the other me, the true Devil, the one who wanted me to end the world. “You choose what path you will follow. Goodbye, Gabriel. Stay true to yourself and your heart, and everything will be okay.” She started to dissolve in front of me, dispersing into thousands of different light particles, zooming past me until I was alone in the cemetery once more.

  My shoulders hunched. I was…defeated by one Angel. By Kass’s mother. What anger I felt minutes ago was gone completely, out of my system. Now, after seeing all that, after remembering what I did in the house, how I’d mercilessly ended all those people…I felt so depressed. I didn’t want this power. I didn’t want to choose.

  I just wanted a normal life, and I wanted Kass with me.

  My mind recalled the things I’d said to her, how I’d looked at her and shrugged her off, told her I shouldn’t have saved her, that I should’ve let her die. How could I have said those things to Kass? I deserved the pain I felt in my chest. I deserved every bit of it. I’d burned her when she touched me, and I didn’t care about it afterwards. How in the world could I have been so awful to her in such a short amount of time?

  I fell to my knees, burying my face in my hands. I wanted to give up.

  Why wasn’t anything ever easy?

  Chapter Fourteen - Michael

  Something was happening downstairs. Crixis, Kass and Max left in a hurry, leaving me alone. The moment Crixis left my sight, I snapped out of the compulsion. My head was heavy, and my neck hurt something fierce, but I was fully myself, finally. And I was alone, which meant I could get out of these restraints.

  I wriggled my wrists; they only budged a centimeter or two. Not enough to slide out. Okay, Plan B. Plan B involved me rocking side to side, putting as much force as I could behind it until the chair wobbled and tumbled over. It fell to the left, and I landed on my arm—which hurt like a bitch—but I was able to slide my legs down, off the chair legs, freeing them instantly. With my legs free, I was able to clumsily get back up, waddle over to the nearest wall, and ram my backside and the chair as hard as I could against it.

  The chair smashed into pieces, and the broken armrests did nothing to keep my hands restrained. I spent the next few seconds stretching out, but didn’t waste too much time. If the Order was here, which I had a feeling they were, I had to show them I wasn’t a total bumbling idiot. I could handle myself. I was worth saving.

  I ran for Kass’s rose blade, which sat leaning against the wall near the door. I picked it up, swinging it through the air. If I didn’t make it out of this, I wasn’t going down without a fight.

  It was grossly unfair. All I had ever done was the will of the Order. Years of my life, wasted by playing Guardian, by acting like a parental figure and a teacher. We waited for Gabriel’s appearance for decades. We knew he would be born without parents around the turn of the century, no specifics beyond that. It was why the Council made such a hubbub about Purifiers being orphans.

  Kass was the notable exception to it. And she’d ruined it all.

  I was at the door the next second, throwing it open, ready to run downstairs into the fray. I’d heard the front door get smashed in, and I knew the Order was here. My fellow Templars were here. But I wasn’t alone as I threw open the door; Crixis stood on its other side, grinning. I backed up a few steps, which only allowed him entrance to the room. I dared not meet his emerald stare.

  Crixis kicked the door behind him shut. “Kass is done with you,” he said. “Now I get to have some fun.”

  Kass was done with me? Did that mean Crixis was free to kill me? My grip on the rose blade tightened. Like I mentioned previously, I didn’t plan on going down without giving it my all. My all compared to Crixis was nothing, which meant I stared death in the face, and it was only a matter of time before I breathed my last breath.

  No. I wasn’t going to think about it.

  “Still a monster, I see,” I said as we started to circle each other.

  “Yes. A monster like me can’t change.” Crixis pointed to his heart, and in a mocking tone stated, “I’m rotten to my core. It makes me sad sometimes.” His lips turned upwards into another smile.

  “Don’t compel me,” I stared hard at his chin. I wanted this fight to be as fair as it could.

  “Whatever do you think of me, Guardian? Or should I say Templar? Either way, I don’t care.” Crixis froze, and I stopped as well, holding the sword steady. “I would never dream of compelling you now. Every warrior should be aware of their last battle. Every warrior deserves the right to die honorably. You, though, are no warrior, and while I will not compel you, yours will not be an honorable death.”

  I was tired of hearing him jabber on and on. He liked to hear himself talk, certainly. I lunged forward, slicing the air with the blade, but Crixis caught the edge of the sword in the palm of his hand, squeezing tightly. I could not move the blade another inch; he was too strong, his muscles like stone. With his other hand, he punched me in the gut, hard enough to stifle the air in my lungs. I flew back a few feet, my grip on the rose blade lost. I glared at him.

  Crixis tossed the blade over his shoulder. The metal clanged on the wood floor, over and over until it settled, motionless. I stumbled to stand and brace myself, and all the Demon did was laugh. “Is that all the fight you have? How pathetic.”

  It hurt to breathe, to move, after that single punch, but he wanted more of a fight, so he’d get it. I was more than happy to oblige. I lifted two fists in the air as he approached me. He was startlingly calm and collected. I supposed he would be, considering how many people—both innocent and guilty—he’d murdered over the years.

  We fought for a few moments, everything a blur. Every kick and punch of mine was easily blocked by Crixis, and each blow of his was too strong and solid to dodge or somehow parry. My shoulder, my chest, my face. All met with Crixis’s fists at one point or another. My head ached, and I was slowing down. Fighting him was impossible. He was the master of all Demonkind, it seemed. The best of the best.

  “Hmm. Bored now.” With one, final slam of his fist, Crixis pounded into my gut, breaking through the skin with the sheer force behind the blow.

  My vision grew starry, pain searing through my body, like knives in my blood. Every nerve felt like it was about to explode. Fingers in my gut, moving around inside things no fingers should ever touch without prior sterilization and gloves.

  I was a statue; I couldn’t move, couldn’t fight. I couldn’t even scream when Crixis yanked his hand out, taking pieces of me with him. Bloody intestines, dangling like rope from his hand. The metallic smell of blood stained the air, and my vision started to lose its color.

  Everything seemed to fade into the next. I knew this was it. I didn’t have much time at all, now. Assuming I could even get away, I didn’t have the necessary adrenaline in my system to keep myself alive, to gather my intestines and go to the hospital. I wouldn’t even make it down the stairs.

  Everything grew blurry, and I felt myself sway. I stumbled to my knees. This was it. My final breath. My last thoughts would be of how I failed. My last feelings would be the pure, unadulterated agony coursing through my failing body.

  Crixis’s green eyes flashed red, the same color as my blood. No, a deeper, darker hue. More maroon. More sinister. He tossed my entrails aside, suddenly before me, baring teeth that had grown in length faster than a human mind could register. “Goodbye, Michael,” he whisper
ed, sinking his teeth into my neck, my throat, tearing me apart, blood squirting everywhere.

  My head fell back as he tore open my neck. So much blood, too much pain. The blood spurted out, drenching Crixis’s face and my chest, mingling with the hole in my gut. He wasn’t drinking me, just watching me bleed out, waiting for me to die. The joke was on him. I was ready to go. Would my God have me, after my failure? Would I see the gates of—

  Chapter Fifteen - Kass

  My legs took me to my destination. The North Carolinian air was already warm and humid, even though the sun wasn’t up yet. If air conditioning wasn’t a thing, I didn’t think I could live here. It was just too hot all the time. I liked the snow, I guessed.

  Look at me. Thinking about snow as I marched across town, past the old, decrepit church that used to serve as our second school, where Raphael would try to pound lessons into our rash heads. Thinking about air conditioning when I should’ve been thinking about what I was going to do if—no, when—I found him. Would I talk to him? What if he was out killing other people?

  The memory of the bodies in the kitchen, the ones on the floor in the living room…it was almost too much, too gruesome. It wasn’t the worst thing I’d seen, not by a long shot, but it was one of the freshest.

  Gabriel killed a dozen men and women without even trying.

  I couldn’t let him just get away with it, even if those men and women were part of the Order, our enemies. Not if he planned on going around and killing innocent civilians, if he wanted to end the world like the Order wanted him to.

  Well. It was obvious he wasn’t going along with the Order, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t end the world. He could still destroy everything, including the Order. He might’ve been Gabriel, but I wasn’t going to let him kill off all life without trying to stop him first.

  I marched straight to the only other place in town that always called to me, because it was where we spent so much of our time. We’d buried Koath there. I’d accompanied Claire to her father’s funeral. For a town like this, it definitely had a larger than average cemetery. If Gabriel wasn’t there, then I wasn’t sure where he’d be.

  If I couldn’t find him…what would I do?

  I couldn’t think like that. I knew I was usually the most negative person around, but now was not the time for my typical negativity. I would find Gabriel, and I would handle him, somehow.

  The light of pre-dawn illuminated everything in a garish yellow hue. I treaded over the rows and rows of headstones, doing my best not to recall all those nights Gabriel and I had spent roaming the area, being yelled at by Raphael, and Gabriel showing off. Just because I did my best not to remember, well, didn’t mean I didn’t remember.

  My memories were strong, and they couldn’t be stopped. I practically drowned in them as I walked, my will to fight Gabriel breaking. Maybe it would be best if I didn’t find him…

  I, Kassandra Niles, am the unluckiest girl alive. My first kind-of boyfriend turned out to be a cursed Daywalker, my best friend had the Devil’s soul in him, and the Demon who murdered my father and my mentor was now kind of on the same side as me. My life was way too messed up. Enough was enough, you know?

  A tall, wide figure stood a ways away. Even with his back to me, I knew it was Gabriel. I also knew whose grave he stood near. He wore a plain T-shirt, no paint splatters or cartoon characters gracing its fabric, and regular jeans. This wasn’t the Gabriel I knew.

  I reached for the dagger in my belt loop, fingers grasping the hilt with a steady but sweaty grip. I moved closer, biting the inside of my cheek. He must not have heard me, for he didn’t even move a single muscle at my approach. Standing ten feet from him, I readied myself.

  Right after moving here, I was able to stab John through the heart. I’d thought he was human at the time. I hadn’t known the truth, didn’t know my tough decision didn’t matter in the long run. John couldn’t die from a stake in the heart, just like Crixis couldn’t.

  Was Gabriel the same? I witnessed him getting stabbed and cut, and he healed fine. The poison only slowed his system down, I realized slowly. All that time in the hospital? He was never going to die. The Devil couldn’t die.

  This…could I really do this? Could I attack Gabriel, hurt him, kill him? My heart probably wouldn’t be able to take it. How could I live with myself, knowing I’d done something like that? I couldn’t say I would want to.

  Just when I steeled myself to make a running lunge for him, I saw his shoulders droop and his posture bend. Within the next moment, Gabriel fell to his knees on the fresh grass growing over Koath’s grave. It sounded as if he wept, but it was impossible.

  The Devil didn’t cry.

  “Gabriel?” I spoke, my voice a bare whisper. God. Why did I sound so hesitant? Why couldn’t I sound sure of myself, confident and brave?

  His blue eyes flicked over his shoulder for only a moment, glancing at the dagger I held. When his back was to me once more, he muttered, “Go ahead. I won’t stop you. I…understand.”

  Okay, hearing him say it made me feel horrible, but I found myself inching closer all the same, lifting the dagger, right over his back. Slide it through the back of the rib cage, pierce the heart. If he dies…

  I couldn’t move.

  “Why aren’t you doing it?” Gabriel asked, speaking to the ground. “I deserve it. What I did to you, what I said…I killed all those people, Kass, without even blinking. Well, I’m sure I blinked, but you know that’s not what I mean—”

  The hand holding the dagger fell to my side, my other hand coming up to my mouth. That was something my Gabriel would say. I felt my eyes tear up. This was too much.

  “—I know they’re the bad guys. I know we aren’t supposed to care about them,” he went on, “but I wanted to kill them. I felt the bloodlust, and even now, I don’t regret what I did. I’d do it again, if it would stop them…from…”

  I dropped the dagger. It was dumb of me for believing I could ever hurt Gabriel. I slowly moved around to stand before him, gazing down steadily at the hunched figure he was. He looked truly torn up about what he did, at least what he did to me. The Order, well…it was harder to grieve for our enemy. For Michael, who Crixis had probably taken care of by now.

  “Please believe me,” Gabriel whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for saying you should’ve died. I’m sorry for hurting you.” His eyes closed, and I saw a tear fall down his stubbly face. “I never meant for any of it to happen. If one of us has to die, it should be me. Not you. Never you.”

  God, I thought gravely, stupidly, and a bit confusedly, I love this boy.

  It hit me like a wall of bricks, hard and surprisingly fast. I loved him. I couldn’t hurt him, even if he told me he shouldn’t have saved me, even if he was going to end the world in fire. He was Gabriel. My Gabriel. I loved him more than I loved myself. Without him, I was nothing, and with him, I was everything.

  I collapsed to my knees, my arms flying around him, bringing his face to my neck. I hugged him like I never hugged anyone before—a bottomless wanting, a need I couldn’t fill without feeling him near me. I breathed in his scent: musky and smoky. Like a forest after a fire.

  I was home.

  “Kass,” Gabriel whispered, his hands finding me, gripping my back, my bare sides, pulling me closer until I was practically in his lap. I didn’t stop him, didn’t deny him. How could I, now that I knew how I felt? All the times we joked around, all the times he mentioned marrying me an off-handed way—it all took on a new meaning.

  This was serious. This was real. I loved this boy, ancient Devil soul and all.

  “It’s okay,” I said, closing my eyes as his hands traveled up my back. Once upon a time, Gabriel would’ve looked at me quizzically and asked what was with my outfit, that maybe I wanted to put on a shirt the next time I left the house. But this was not once upon a time. This wasn’t a fairy tale. This was us. “Everything will be okay.” Might’ve been a lie, but it was one I was more than happy to believe.


  His hands left my back, moving to cradle my face as he pulled back. His fingers weaved through my hair, thumbs on my cheeks. The pair of blue orbs staring at me was sadder than I remembered them, and it hurt to see them like this. “No,” he breathed out, resting his forehead against mine. Neither of us kneeled anymore; we both sat, leaning into each other at an almost uncomfortable angle. “No,” he said again, “it’s not.”

  It’s not? My mind raced. Did he mean everything wasn’t going to be okay? Why would he…

  Whatever thoughts I had after that vanished, utterly disappearing, never to be seen again, when Gabriel lowered his mouth to mine. I was like a doll in his hands, frozen and shocked, although honestly I shouldn’t have been.

  Like I didn’t see this coming. Like our touchy-feely hug was all we would do.

  No, I thought, I want more. I need more, especially if things aren’t going to be okay.

  The kiss was tentative, at first. Once I got my bearings, realized he was kissing me, I kissed him back. What was soft and slow turned into deep and hungry, too much passion for two teenagers like us. We kissed like it was going to be our last embrace, like we were long-lost lovers in one of those made-for-TV movies. We probably looked weird, if anyone happened to walk by, making out in a cemetery at dawn, but I didn’t care.

  I didn’t care at all. This was all I wanted. This was amazing. This—his tongue found its way into my mouth—this was good. So good. Too good. I never wanted it to end.

  Never breaking lip contact, I moved my legs so I sat on him, straddling him, my hands roaming his hard chest. My mind was full of thoughts about Gabriel, dreams of what we would do, what our future held after this thing was finished. The possibilities.

  Truthfully, I didn’t know why it took me so long to admit it. I loved Gabriel.

  Gabriel sharply pulled away, giving me a weird look.

  “What?” Did I do something wrong? Bite his lip too hard? Did I not do something I should’ve?