Page 78 of Grave Revelations (Prophecies of Angels and Demons #3)

Chapter 77

Rebecca

Rebecca spied the lance protruding from a bush and dove for it.

Blond hair darted past her, swiping it up.

Grabbing the girl—Sanura—by the throat, Rebecca called fire into her palm, but Sanura pried her hands free unnaturally fast and dug poison-tipped talons into Rebecca’s shoulders.

Rebecca tugged at the ember in her chest, setting herself ablaze, and Sanura released her, hissing. Tossing her hands to the ground, she commanded roots and vines to her just as she had in her dream and coiled them around the girl.

Sanura screamed, tearing at the branches at her feet, and thrust her free hand into the dirt.

Rebecca lunged forward, but Sanura was too fast, ripping the remaining roots off her and darting away.

The ground shook as headstones toppled, and bony arms and legs dug themselves out of the dirt.

Rebecca froze for a moment, watching the gruesome scene before she spied Sanura skirting the edge of the great gaping hole, still spewing dark creatures from the bowels of Hell, and ran after her .

Rebecca stumbled to a halt as a creature soared out, diving for Sanura. She gasped as her demon father solidified, talons lengthening around the pale throat of his long-dead child.

“Alexander!” Rebecca shouted, lighting both palms in blue flame.

His gaze shifted to her, his horned brow dipping over flaming red eyes. Somehow, he seemed bigger—stronger—than the last time she’d seen him. “Daughter.”

“Planning to finish what you started?” She tilted her head to the still-flailing girl in his grasp.

“This vile creature and her mate tricked me. Used me to get what they wanted. You.” His glowing eyes narrowed on her. “It’s always about you, isn’t it, Rebecca? Even if you are worthless.” The words spilled over his lips like venom, stinging even if she knew they weren’t true.

“It hurts knowing you’ve been used, doesn’t it?” she asked.

He growled, squeezing Sanura’s neck, and her small nails scraped for purchase as the lance bounced to the ground.

Rebecca fought the urge to watch it fall, to draw any attention to it, as she leveled her gaze on the father, who was finally the physical manifestation of the demon he’d always been.

“She’s yours,” Rebecca said. “Do what you want with her.”

His inky lips tipped up. “I don’t need your permission.” He darted into the sky.

Rebecca raced forward, sliding to a stop beside the lance, and scooped it up.

Got it!

A small body hit the ground beside her, and Sanura hopped to her feet, looking dazed.

Rebecca looked up, searching the Stygian sky for Alexander.

Sanura staggered toward her.

Rebecca threw up her arms again, calling roots and vines to wrap around the girl while she was still disoriented from her fall.

Sanura clawed and fought, but Rebecca pressed more of her earth magic into the growing thicket, calling vines and brambles to weave their trap. Something gold glinted in the moonlight around the child’s throat.

She’s wearing the necklace .

Azazel didn’t reply, too consumed with his own battle.

The skeletal remains of her dead ancestors moved jerkily toward them, and Rebecca twisted one hand, exhaling as a funnel of wind blew through them, sucking them up and smashing them against nearby trees. She returned her focus to Sanura, squeezing the vines tighter.

Sanura screamed; night creatures answered her call. Blurred shapes raced for her, snapping their teeth and claws.

Rebecca burst into blue flame, wreathing herself in protective fire and sending the creatures darting away in every direction.

“Sophia, kill her!” Sanura yelled.

Rebecca spun as honey-brown hair zipped from the darkness. Her flames died as she caught her friend by the wrists, fighting with all her might to hold her back.

A tear streaked down Sophia’s cheek. “Rebecca. Run.”

“Fight it, Sophia,” Rebecca pleaded. “I can’t kill you.”

“You have to end her, Rebecca. I won’t stop until you’re dead,” Sophia said. “Or she is.”

Rebecca dug her heels into the ground, calling on earth magic to lend her strength as Sophia bent closer, snapping her teeth at her exposed throat. “If I kill her, you’ll die!”

“I let you die once.”

Rebecca’s vision blurred.

A dark form skidded to a stop, wrapping his arms around Sophia.

Rebecca met Simon’s yellow-eyed stare as he pulled Sophia back and held her in his vice-like grip.

“Do it, Bec,” he said. “It’s the only way!”

“Why did you do it?” she cried. “I can’t kill you. Either of you!”

“I should have died long ago,” Simon said.

Rebecca’s heart ached for them, both made by the creature she needed to kill.

“Do it,” Simon pleaded. “Before she escapes.”

Rebecca looked at the tangle of vines trapping Sanura, and a chill skated down her spine. Skeletal figures were picking at vines, working to set her free .

She lifted the lance in one shaking fist and twisted her other wrist, sending the skeletons scattering with a wave of her hand. Leaning forward, Rebecca tore the amulet free from Sanura’s throat.

Sanura, in Elizabeth’s body, screamed for her creatures, commanded them to save her. They raced from every direction as Simon spun, twisting Sophia with him. He swiped at them, but they dodged, intent on protecting their maker.

Rebecca glanced back at the two people she loved most in the world, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sam! Samael, she’ll kill me!”

Rebecca looked up, seeing two winged creatures—mere specks in the sky—and hefted the lance overhead. Her gaze fell to Simon, still struggling to hold Sophia back and swiping at the other creatures inching closer.

“I loved you,” she confessed.

“I’ll never stop.”

The words died on Simon’s lips as she plunged the lance into Sanura’s neck, and all around her, creatures sank to the ground.

Sanura’s screams died with her, and Rebecca pulled the lance free, dropping beside Simon and Sophia’s crumpled forms. She rested her hand on Simon’s cheek before sliding his eyes closed. He was so peaceful in death.

“I’m so sorry.”

Tears ran down her cheeks, soaking his shirt as she dropped her head against his chest. The silent stillness where a heart had only just begun to beat again, now gone forever, cleaved a new ache through her.

Rebecca lifted her head, brushed the hair back from his still face, and kissed his cheek. “I never wanted this for you.”

She found his fingers and laced them between hers, her free hand straying to his smooth brow and tracing its shape. So often, she’d seen those brows dipped low, angry at the world. Now, Simon was free of all the oppressive burdens life had thrust upon him.

Rebecca pressed another kiss to his cheek, stifling a sob, and released his hand .

Her bleary gaze moved to Sophia, brushing soft fingers over her lids and closing them. She straightened her tangled mane of hair over one shoulder, just the way Sophia liked it.

A woman dropped to her knees beside her, wailing as she said Sophia’s name over and over, and Rebecca rested her hand on Angeliki’s back. Sophia’s mother pressed a palm to either side of her daughter’s face and sobbed something incomprehensible.

“I’m sorry,” she said for the third time, hollowness settling in her chest.

Rebecca backed up, giving them space as several other women knelt beside Sophia, laying their hands on her. “Pythia,” they chanted, stroking her hair, her arms, her face.

She leaned down, tugging Simon’s limp form, trying to lift him to carry him with her, when a hand came down on her wrist.

“He was one of us. We will mourn him.”

Rebecca looked at the sea of faces, blinking back tears. One by one, they dipped their chins. “Sotiria. Sotiras,” they whispered, nodding their respect.

Simon had never found his place in life, but he would be among his people in death.

She released him, letting him fall back into their waiting arms. As with Sophia, they laid their hands on him, chanting in their language, and she backed up, wiping hot tears from her cheeks.

The earth rocked, sending Rebecca to her knees. Tearing, wrenching pain speared her heart, and she fell to the ground, clutching her chest as two dark forms tumbled over the ground, rolling to a stop several yards away.

“Noooooooooo!” she shrieked, struggling to her feet. She stumbled toward him, but the gaping hole in her chest yawned wider with each step as it pulled her down.

Azazel lay unmoving on the ground as Samael dug taloned nails into his chest.

Rebecca screamed again, raising the lance high as she charged the devil pinning her soulmate under him.

Samael looked up, grinning madly. “I’ll carve the soul from him, little Naphil, and you will feel it just as I did when you ripped my mate from me. ”

He was lying. He must be. Azazel was immortal. But even as Samael said the words, Rebecca felt a terrible wrenching at the center of her being. He was tearing their bond in two, ending him.

She ran at him, swinging the lance for his side.

Samael slammed one hand down atop the earth, and it shook.

A rolling wave erupted over its surface, sending Rebecca to the ground. She jumped to her feet, raising the lance overhead. The pain in her chest doubled, and she gasped around it, charging toward him.

“Get off him!” she screamed.

Samael’s enormous hand came down again, but she was ready for it this time, sending air magic under her feet to lift her off the ground.

She swung the lance as she came down, catching the edge of his finger and embedding it in the meaty flesh there.

He tsked, raising his hand before she could pull the lance free. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, extracting his talons from Azazel’s chest, golden blood dripping from their sharp tips.

Rebecca’s horrified gaze shot to the gaping wound in her mate’s chest as blood poured in rivulets, running down his side into the snow. Where it fell, new life erupted from the ground, pushing through packed ice. Amethyst blooms unfurled from the earth, tipped in gold, and strained toward him, just as she did.

Az. Please wake up .

The silence was deafening.

Samael plucked the lance from his finger as if it were nothing more than a sliver; perhaps, at his size, it was. It hadn’t even drawn blood.

Rebecca’s mind swam as that realization struck her. Blood. It held magic. It held their very essence. And Azazel’s was spilling out, his life force draining from him as she watched helplessly.

“Come here, little Naphil. I need you for this next part.” Samael’s words drew her attention as his massive hand swiped for her.

She danced back, wreathing herself in flame. Shooting air beneath her feet, she rose, firing balls of flame at Samael, and he lifted up onto his knees, batting them aside as he swiped for her again .

“You can still save him,” he taunted, and her air magic faltered as she fell several feet.

Rebecca’s gaze shifted to Azazel for only a moment. He was still, seemingly lifeless, but his blood still flowed, a sign he was not gone yet.

Shooting a new blast of magic beneath her feet, she lifted herself higher, coming to eye level with Samael. “How?” He swiped for her again, but she moved out of his reach. “Tell me what you want to heal him.”

“I need your blood.”

Of course he did. It all came down to blood, just as she’d suspected.

“How do I know you’ll heal him if I give you my blood?”

“You have my word, little Naphil.”

“What good is the word of Satan?” She darted another glance at Azazel. Was the flow of blood slowing? Was she wasting time debating with Samael when he could be slipping further from her reach even now?

As if he’d read her mind, he stretched a hand out in a placating gesture. “You’re running out of time. Trust me or watch him die.”

Her gaze fell on Azazel once more, the tug in her chest to go to him, to touch him, growing stronger. Straightening her spine as she sent another puff of air to the ground, she landed on Samael’s open palm.

“Heal him, and you can have my blood.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” He closed his fist around her, squeezing.

Rebecca screamed as the air left her lungs.